Solitude and Darkness
by Sumi-Sprite
Summary: Fill for the RotG KINKmeme. Sometimes mistakes are made. Sometimes misguidance is given. And a lot of time, the best intentions are the worst evil one can commit. Perhaps imprisoning Pitch Black after his defeat wasn't the brightest thing to do. How do you plan to fix something you yourself broke, Guardians? WARNING! For later suicide attempts, self-harm, and psychological trauma.
1. Chapter 1

**Solitude and Darkness.**

Ch. 1

_A/N~ Yet another fill from DreamWidth by the lovely Prompter, Plush! God you are going to kill me Plush. I now know what a hate/love relationship feels like now XD kidding~ Don't stop being awesome! Keep up those prompts!_

_I am wanting to keep this as Gen as possible, but with me, you never know. I will try to keep it Gen though! But if for some reason down the line it goes up into slash or something, I'll definitely keep it at fluff-level romance. And that's IF I take this up a notch. _

_Prompt link can be found in my profile!_

Genre: Gen, angst, hurt/comfort.

Chara(s): Pitch Black, Guardians (all), Mother Nature, other Spirits, OCs (minor)

Pairing(s): N/A.

_~S~_

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

His head hurt.

No, that was false actually. _Everything_ hurt! Everything, down to his limbs and torso, to his damn fingernails and eyeballs. It all _hurt!_

'_Why exactly does it hurt to begin with?'_ he wondered.

No sooner did he wonder this did his aching body start to regain its sense of feeling. His nerves slowly woke up, the chill of – was he on the bloody floor? – the stone floor seeping into his pained limbs. Pitch decided to cast off the indignity of his position and let the chilled floor sooth his aches and pains.

But with the sensation of relief also came the awakening of sharp, jagged pains coursing through the slender immortal's body. The once annoying aches steadily grew into mind-splitting pains and burns, all of which were slowly spreading over his body like ivy. There was now no part of his body that didn't hurt, burn, or sting. It was like he was being swarmed by Toothiana's infuriating little fairies that were somehow using dull, jagged weapons on his skin and bones – while they were on fire.

Pitch twitched a finger, and nearly cried out at the sheer _grinding_ of the raw bones in his fingers.

But despite the pain, Pitch was more aware of a few more pressing matters than his own discomfort.

What had happened to him? Why was he on the floor? Why did everything _hurt?_ And why…why did he somehow feel so…_confined?_

'_Get up you bloody fool…!'_ he mentally snarled.

Swallowing his agonized cries, Pitch shakily lifted his arms and planted his palms to the floor. He was somewhat glad he was already laying belly-down. He didn't want to think of the agony he would be in if he was on his back and had to roll over.

Mentally preparing himself, Pitch pushed himself up, uttering a strangled cry of pain. He could literally feel his joints grinding with every inch he lifted himself from the floor. His arms were shaking with the strain, his sternum felt like it was about to crack in two, and his abdomen felt like it was about to split open from the weight of his own organs. He barely managed to sit back on his knees – a very painful position now that he thought about it – and with his throbbing head cradled in his palms, Pitch asked himself again,

What the in the unholy hells _happened_ to him?

'_Wait…the Nightmares…' _a pained frown creased his forehead.

Nightmares…the _Guardians!_ Those wretched, high and mighty, self-righteous, vile _worms!_ All those decades of planning, of scrounging up mere smidges of Sandy's Dreamsand, of living off of nothing but only the most miniscule of fears. All of it, completely thwarted by four stuck-up wretches! And not only had he been defeated by them, with the help of _children_ of all things, he had been rampaged by his own creations and dragged back into his hole of a lair like a limpet!

And Frost…that thrice damned winter sprite. Pitch had underestimated the little upstart. Although that was his first mistake, it wasn't his worst. His worst mistake was showing such vulnerability in the Arctic, and so damn openly. But _never_ again. He _will_ have his revenge…!

Pitch clenched his teeth before groaning from the action. He could literally feel an artery pulsing in his temple against his fingertip. Each pulse sent a new wave of agony through his throbbing body, and the pain wasn't letting up.

Pitch's hand froze as it grazed gingerly over his forehead, feeling something warm and wet against his fingertips.

He had a theory on what he was feeling, but he didn't want to look. His eyeballs were throbbing behind his eyelids; it felt like needles were being pushed into the gold and quicksilver orbs.

But he knew he had to survey his injuries, not to mention see if any of his traitorous Nightmares were nearby. He would have to figure out how to either reclaim control over them, lock them up, or worst case scenario, destroy them. Though he doubted he could accomplish the latter. Prideful as he was, even Pitch knew he wouldn't be able to take them on in his condition.

Slowly, the Nightmare King cracked open his eyes, and his sight was immediately met with inky black darkness.

At first he thought his eyes were still closed, or perhaps they were more damaged than he thought. But he could feel his eyelids fluttering over his eyes, and he was able to make out a few vague shapes in the darkness once his eyes adjusted.

A sudden sense of dread crawled up his spine, wracking his broken body with a shudder. His senses were suddenly on high, and that strange sense of confinement, like the room had suddenly gotten smaller, returned tenfold. What was this? Why was he getting this odd feeling? Yes, he was likely going to be stuck in his lair for some time now that he was at his lowest point in power – _again_ – but this…he's never felt this before…

"Tch…" Pitch scoffed and, seeing a stalagmite to his left, used the sharp stone to carefully hoist himself up onto shaky legs.

The Boogeyman's knees groaned in protest against the weight, the muscles in his calves and thighs clenching spastically. He internally groaned at the position he found himself in. He never thought he could fall so low. Honestly, it was bad enough being defeated by The Four Halfwits, plus one aggravating winter sprite. But no, he also had to be dragged back into his hole, _by his own creations_, wake up on the floor, and now find himself clinging for dear life onto a stalagmite.

'_Shall I jump off a plateau and impale myself now?'_ He certainly had enough ledges to choose from.

Tempting as it was though, he knew it would only waste his time. If he could just get to his personal chambers, he could treat his injuries – and hopefully his pride – and spend a few months licking his wounds to regain himself. You can't kill fear after all; he'd be back on his feet sooner than later…

He just had to get into the main part of his lair first. Judging by the gaping black hole above him, he was in the small cavern that led to the connecting tunnel into his Globe Room. The mentioned tunnel, unfortunately, seemed to have caved in, leaving no direct way in or out of the cavern pocket. Though for Pitch, this obviously wasn't a problem. It was dark as his sense of humor in there after all, he could just travel through his shadows and spontaneously travel to his chambers. And with time, he would regain control of his rogue Nightmares. Though for now, he was going to leave them be.

Let them have their fun. Hell, the more fear they instigate in the world, the sooner he could regain his strength. Let the insufferable Guardians have their victory, let them laugh. They couldn't keep him down forever. As long as there was fear, doubt, and shadows in the world, Pitch wasn't going _anywhere_.

Releasing a choked chuckle, Pitch let go of the stalagmite and let himself collapse over a shadow…

And promptly met with the solid stone of his floor. Painfully.

The Nightmare King swore loud and long in various languages before painfully scrambling onto his hands and knees. He pushed the loosened hair now in his eyes back against his head, and snarled at the floor like it had committed some unjust act against him. Though he had to frown at the oddness of the situation.

He ran a bony hand over the shadowed floor, a very slight spark of dread crawling into his gut. He shook it off as quickly it had come. No, this wasn't a big deal. He was obviously weak and still a little disoriented. What's one slight fluke?

Pushing himself up again, Pitch limped over to one of the uneven walls. He paused in front of it, deciding to be a bit more tactical. He pressed his hands onto the shadowed wall.

Nothing happened.

No cool, comforting shade wrapping around his arms. No gentle tug or pull from the darkness. No beckoning pulse. No eager shadows reaching out for him. Not even a ripple against his fingers!

That tiny seed of fear he had swallowed not even a moment ago seemed to sprout and root itself into the pit of his belly. An unnerved sensation spider webbed from his stomach up into his chest, all of which was suddenly feeling tighter. It was getting harder to breathe…

Aghast, Pitch withdrew his hands and held them against his chest, his palms clammy. He bit his lip and swallowed around the lump – when was there a lump? – in his throat. He was completely oblivious of his shaking hands, as well as his ragged breathing.

'_W-…why…?'_ jagged teeth dug into his dry lower lip.

Something…something wasn't right. Something was wrong, _very_ wrong.

Out. He needed to get out. There was something wrong, and he wasn't safe here. He had to get out now, now, _right now!_

Trying to calm his hyperventilating, Pitch rushed for another wall and slapped his palms onto the dark wall, ignoring the sharp sting it brought into his wrists. Nothing happened. The shadows were not yielding to his command.

Pitch fervently tested every single inch of the cavern, touching each shadow to try and gauge a reaction, a sign, anything to prove he was not _trapped…!_

By the time he had scanned every wall, rock, and the floor, Pitch felt the crushing seed of fright starting to grow larger. Its vines, barbed with poisonous thorns, were starting to constrict his dead heart. He didn't understand why this was happening, he couldn't be _that_ weak. It wasn't possible! Even at his worst, he could still use the shadows and darkness to hide and protect himself. And that foreboding sensation…

'_The hole…I can try there.'_ he thought frantically.

The Boogeyman limped to the hole in the lower part of the ceiling. Panting with anxiety and sheer oppressive doubt flooding his veins like a toxic disease, he reached up to try and grip a rock to haul himself up and-…

Eclipsed eyes grew impossibly wide as they stared up into the hole above them. The once slowly constricting vines of terror suddenly became a deadly constrictor around his heart.

'_No…'_

The large, faintly glowing white circle above him was quite possibly the most menacing thing he has ever seen in his existence. The circle was flanked by five shapes, all of which sported different colors; a green diamond, a purple triangle, a red square, a yellow circle, and a blue hexagon. All of them surrounded the familiar 'G' in the circle's center, slanted lines dividing the shapes and connecting to the edges of the sealed hole in a mock impression of a spider web.

The symbol itself would have meant nothing to anyone else. But not to Pitch, not when he could now clearly feel and identify just what that uneasy feeling was.

It was an imprisonment seal.

And there was only one group of spirits who were capable of such a seal, and only one person who could lend such a spell…

'_They…they imprisoned me…?'_ he thought.

The Guardians, the Man in the Moon…they all willingly imprisoned him…? He…he was now a prison for warning to be seen? To be acknowledged? To feel like he actually _existed?_

'_I'm…I'm being punished for wanting to exist…?'_

Cold. It was so cold now. There was ice in his veins. The constrictor around his heart suddenly became a venomous serpent. It sunk its fangs into his frantic heart, spilling ice cold poison into his blood. His nerves were suddenly numb, his senses shot. It felt like the floor had suddenly vanished under his feet. Yet at this point, he would have been glad if it had if it meant he could get out…

Pitch never even noticed that he had fallen to his knees, his gaze still locked onto the seal above him. His lips parted and eyes wide, the dark spirit was completely numb, as if his senses had suddenly left his body. He was in a personal limbo of numbing sensations, and deafening silence. He was far past shocked and frightened. No, he was _terrified_…

_**You will never be seen again…**_

Pitch's body jolted and tensed into solid granite. He felt his poisoned heart drop into his stomach as he slowly turned his head around. His eyes locked onto the dozens of amber glowing eyes peeking out at him from the darkness.

His breath hitched as manic laughter filled his ears.

_**Poor, poor Boogeyman…**_

_**Such a pathetic creature…**_

_**You will never be acknowledged now!**_

_**Forever trapped in your own darkness…**_

_**No one will ever love you…**_

The Nightmares and Fearlings emerged from the shadows and surrounded the petrified spirit. Their whispers taunted him with sickening pleasure. Never in his entire existence did Pitch wish so badly that he was actually alone. But no, he was surrounded, there was no escape – he was trapped in a literal starved lion's den.

His mouth gaped open in a silent scream. A large Fearling loomed over him and caressed his pale cheek.

_**For who could ever love a monster?**_

To be continued…

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

_A/N~ First installment people! And probably my longest first chapter. Hope you enjoy it, and hope I keep myself on track with four fills!_

…_holy crap this pizza is delicious…_

_**Now edited!**_

_~S~_


	2. Chapter 2

**Solitude and Darkness.**

Ch. 2

_A/N~ Considering how things are progressing, updates are going to be a bit more steady (thank god) and progressive. This is a bit of a short chapter, and is more or less a necessary filler. Please enjoy!_

Genre: Gen, angst, hurt/comfort.

Chara(s): Pitch Black, Guardians (all), Mother Nature, other Spirits, OCs (minor)

Pairing(s): N/A.

Enjoy!

_~S~_

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

North scrutinized the globe in front of him with hard, unreadable eyes. The man with wonder-filled eyes and a jolly demeanor was not what one usually pictures when they think of Santa Clause. But to those who actually knew him, who met him in person, this was a somewhat rare – but not unheard of – position to find him in.

His baby blue eyes surveyed the globe rotating steadily in his workshop. Or more specifically, on the lights that pinpointed a child that believed in him and his kin. And yet…

They were going out.

It wasn't at a fast pace – it wasn't even noticeable for the first few weeks. The changes in the lights was so subtle and quiet, North had only noticed when maintenance had to be done on the rotation mechanism of the globe. He had been helping with lubricating the mechanism with his Yetis, when he had noticed that at least a dozen lights had gone off in steady succession around the western and northern hemisphere.

He at first thought nothing of it. Children grew up and lost belief after all, and their lights were always replaced by others sooner than later. So North paid no mind to it and simply went on his way.

This happened almost three months ago. And during that time, the lights had been going out in large bulks like the first time, and little to no others were replacing them. To North, this wouldn't have been unusual. But once more and more clusters of lights began to go out almost simultaneously – with none replacing them – he began to worry.

His worry only increased when the other Guardians came to him with their own concerns.

About a month ago, Toothiana had flitted into his Workshop, anxiety leaking off of her like molting feathers. She came to him with a rather unusual worry. Children were losing teeth at an unhealthy rate, and not in the natural sense. The teeth they were losing were not ones that simply fell out like all baby teeth. No, these teeth had been knocked out of their mouths from accidents, brawls, and fights. Her fairies kept bringing in bloody and broken teeth, a good amount of which weren't even baby teeth.

North, while concerned to a degree, had brushed the worry off rather easily. They were kids, and kids liked to rough house and get into scraps. He certainly had gotten into plenty of brutal brawls in his youth, and told Tooth not to worry about it.

A couple days after Tooth, Bunny came over. He confided to North of his worry for some of the kids he's been seeing during Easter and on his few trips to the surface above his Warren. Kids were starting to wander into dangerous parts of the Australian outback, and approaching dangerous animals of their own accord. Bunny had actually witnessed a child being killed by a Dingo pack not too long ago. He was completely flustered and worried, but there was little to nothing he could do.

North had been quite aghast to hear this, and took into consideration of the situation. But it only stayed in the back of his mind when Bunny left.

A week after Bunny, Sandman arrived. North had never seen the golden man so flustered and frantic. He could just _barely_ make out what Sandy was signing to him at the time, and it took him even longer to calm the dream weaver down to calmly explain himself.

And from what North gathered from the sand symbols, Bunny and Tooth's worries were only the tip of the iceberg.

The line between dreams and reality had somehow become blurred to the point of nonexistence to not just children, but adults as well. People were doing stupid things, and making even stupider decisions. Kids suddenly believed they could fly, could tame wild animals, that nothing could hurt them. And the adults…

There used to be an old saying a long time ago – an idiot and a pair of scissors can be useful, but giving an idiot a pair of scissors is just asking for trouble. In this case, the people who held power have become senseless and rash. Small civil wars have recently broken out in various countries, and the chaos was slowly starting to leak over borders and seas. It was only a matter of time before something snapped and all hell broke loose. But this raised a question…

What in the name of Manny was going on?

Why were humans becoming so senseless and careless? Why were kids becoming even more deficient than they already were?

And Jack, the poor sprite, was utterly horrified and heartbroken by these sudden shifts. His snow days and fun times have suddenly become battlegrounds where kids would challenge each other and see just how fast they could go down that iced road and into traffic.

Jack hadn't come out of his room for weeks after that…

And still, even as time passed, nothing was improving. In fact, things seemed to be getting worse!

'_Just what is happening to this world?'_ North thought, his jaw clenching as another cluster of lights went out.

The Guardian was brought out of his scrutiny by a large furry hand shaking his shoulder, a garbled voice barking in his ears.

"Bah! Phil, what is it? Can you not see I am thinking?" he grunted.

The Yeti grumbled something with a sense of urgency, not unlike he did the last time something was wrong with the globe. Pitch's last attack was certainly one to remember, if for nothing but their success. North's bushy, salt and pepper brows creased in a deep frown. That day felt like so long ago, when it had only been about fifty years – a mere blink in the eyes of most immortals. There were very few moments North would think about that day, but they gradually became fewer and fewer. He hadn't thought of that day in over twenty years; and he shouldn't have to. They did the right thing in the end…

"What do you mean summons?" North inquired, raising a bushy brow.

Phil gestured to a piece of parchment in his other hand and spoke more in his strange language. North frowned and took the parchment – it was like raw paper, still rough with pulp and unbleached. It wasn't even cut in a rectangle, but looked like it had been torn out of a larger piece.

And scrawled upon the raw parchment in neat cursive was a letter…

_To all Spirits of Earth,_

_You are hereby summoned for an emergency conference with the High Fae Court.* No exceptions are to miss this meeting, as decreed by Father Time and Mother Nature. The Guardians are also expected to attend, no exceptions._

_Sincerely,_

_Mother Nature._

If people thought North had big eyes already, they didn't see them when he finished reading the summons…

_**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**_

"The high what court?" Jack inquired dumbly.*

"The High Fae Court, ya dill!" Bunny snapped, madly swiping a crude comb over his fur – to no avail of taming the wild patches.

Currently he, North, Sandy, and Tooth were scrambling around the Workshop doing various self clean-ups. Tooth was preening her feathers, and donned in some of her more intricate jewelry – a rare sight. Sandy was trying – and failing – to tame his starburst hair. And North was trying to squeeze himself into a more detailed jacket, all of which was – obviously – now too small for him. But of course, the man plainly refused to accept this. "It fit six hundred and fifty seven years ago, it will fit now!" he had said.

Jack, however, was getting comfy on a table and munching on some pilfered cookies.

"Okay…so what's the Court thing? Is it something important?" Jack asked.*

All activity in the room came to a dead stop. Various pairs of eyes – from Guardians, Yeti, and elf alike – locked onto Jack. He got the distinct impression that they were expecting him to grow a second head and a tail. He was actually tempted to check and see if this actually happened…

"Is it important…?" Bunny rasped, "Is it _important!?_"

"Judging by your exaggerated parroting, I'd say it was, in fact, important." Jack smirked cheekily.

"Jack," Tooth started seriously, "This is _serious_. The High Fae Court hasn't called a global summons to the spirits in over a million years! And it's been even longer since it was coordinated by Mother Nature and Father Time themselves!"

Jack raised a brow at this, "So it's that bad?"

"Is not so much as bad as it is…" North paused to try and find a proper word, "Strange. It is actually quite worrying. Father Time himself is never one to leave his domain for 'trivial' reasons."*

"And the fact that he and Mother Nature have summoned _every_ spirit in the realm for this means it is _dead serious_ business, mate." Bunny said grimly.

Jack chose not to throw in the pique he had been saving for a hysterical occasion, as the mere repeated mention of two very powerful spirits – spirits he never met but knew could easily end him – was putting him on edge. The fact that everyone in the room was up in arms was also quite disconcerting to the winter sprite. He has never seen the others this flustered before during the whole time he's known them – the exceptional time being when Pitch made a grab for power and nearly ended all belief in them. The memory left an unknown, bitter taste in his mouth, which prompted him to push the rest of his cookies aside. He hated revisiting those memories.

"Well, okay, this is serious, but do we even know what this whole world-wide meeting is about?" he asked.

"We don't know, Jack," Tooth said, "But it's best to heed their call. No exceptions are to miss this meeting, and that includes you!"

The fairy then proceeded to lick her hand and try and smooth out Jack's wild white locks, much to his dismay. Bunny would have been laughing at him any other time, but he seemed more worried about licking his own hair…

"Right! Are we ready yet?" North bellowed.

"Yes, we're – Tooth, stop that! My hair is _fine!_ – we're ready!" Jack ducked out of Tooth's mother-hen clutches and rushed up beside North just as the larger man marched into the launching room for his sleigh.

"Everyone in!" he bellowed, sliding into his sleigh.

"Uh, I think I'll just take the tun-"

"Get in!"

Bunny never stood a chance as he was picked up by his scruff and thrown into the passenger's seat. Jack barely made it in before North was snapping his reigns, and they were off. North didn't even bother with his usual stunts and loop-de-loops. Rather he took a 'short-cut' that led them out into the air in only a few seconds.

"So…" Jack started, his voice gaining volume over the howling wind, "Where are we going?"

North produced a Snowglobe from his pocket, absently shaking it in his hand. He brought it to his face and said,

"The Eden."*

To be continued…

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

_A/N~ A bit of a filler, but fear not! Here comes chapter three, and the much anticipated MiM and Guardians PWNing~_

_- The High Fae Court is somewhat of a parody of 'The Seelie Court' that I made up. I would have called it the Seelie Court like in the actual mythology, but after doing some research, it wouldn't have really fit since the spirit meeting would consist of both 'good' and 'evil' spirits, so to speak. _

_- Jack, being only 350 years old (in this time frame) is still considered VERY young compared to the majority of spirits. Due to this, he is still a bit oblivious to the spirit world's social structure and judicial system. I honestly find it very believable that the spirit realm would have some kind of political and social structure to maintain a steady order. Plus it would make sense if the higher ups (ex. Mother Nature, Father Time) want to keep tabs on spirits who would want to bring harm to the humans or commit a crime in their own realm._

_- The High Fae Court is much like a regular political court system where various ambassadors of various countries get together to discuss peace, politics, etc. In this however, The High Court is used as a way to have wide-range communication with spirits during times of crisis._

_- Consider the phrase, "Time waits for no one." and you'll get why Father Time is so adamant at leaving his post. _

_- The Eden is the title I gave Mother Nature's realm for obvious reasons. _

_Enjoy!_

_**Now edited!**_

_~S~_


	3. Chapter 3

**Solitude and Darkness.**

Ch. 3

_A/N~ Be warned, this fic will contain some major Guardian and MiM bashing and shaming. I won't lie, I LOVE a good basher if the plot calls for it. I'm a major lover in playing out a hater scenario in areas, so get ready for some verbal PWNing next time!_

Genre: Gen, angst, hurt/comfort.

Chara(s): Pitch Black, Guardians (all), Mother Nature, other Spirits, OCs (minor)

Pairing(s): N/A.

Enjoy!

_~S~_

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

The first thing Jack noticed when they emerged from the portal was all the green.

The ocean they were flying over was an iridescent green-blue, not unlike Tooth's feathers. The sky seemed to be stuck in an eternal sunset, casting the sea in a veil of glowing orange, red, pink, and gold. And the island ahead of them…

"The central of all seasons." Jack looked up at North, perplexed.

"The Eden is an island that forever holds all four seasons of earth,"* North elaborated, not taking his eyes off the island before them, "She is expecting us; I do not see lightning or storm clouds."

Jack looked back at the island again at this. The skies above it were rather clear, save for a few grey-white clouds hovering over it. Was North saying the island is usually supposed to be surrounded by storm clouds and lightning 24/7? That didn't seem very hospitable…*

Jack's resolve was cut short by a swift gust of wind rushing past him. But unlike his wind, this one was warm, and carried a floral scent.

"Up there!" Tooth pointed up above their sleigh. Jack looked up and gasped, eyes widening.

Dozens – no, _hundreds_ of wights, fae, and spirits flew above them towards the island. Some flew all their own with the aid of wings, magic, or the wind. Some rode other creatures or enchanted animals. And others rode items or other forms of carriage like North's sleigh. There was even one riding a giant squid!

"Grand sight, isn't it?"

The others yelped at the sudden inquiry on their left side. Looking over, Jack instantly calmed and grinned over at the spirit.

"Hal!" he greeted, leaning over the edge of the sleigh, "Long time no see. How you been?"

"I have been better…" Hal sighed, adjusting his side-saddle position on his witch's broom.*

Jack frowned slightly at this. Hal looked more tired than he usually was, and that was saying something. The light in his glowing orange eyes was dull and dim too. His helpers, the Wil-o-wisps*, clung tightly to the spirit's witch's hat for dear life, their blue flamed bodies bearing flecks of yellow and orange. And the jet of fire that usually shot out of the end of his broom was not but sputtering embers and smoke. That wasn't normal.

"Hallow!" North bellowed over the wind, "Do you know what is going on?"

"No, I just woke up…" Hal yawned widely, a small puff of smoke escaping his mouth. He coughed violently as the dusty substance stuck to the inside of his throat – also not normal…

"We will find out when we get to The Eden," he rasped, strained, "Mother Nature rarely summons so many, let alone all of us."

"Yeah…" Bunny eyed the spirit with a frown, "What's wrong with you, mate? You don't look-"

"The Remnants* are not natural…" Hal cut in, his eyes foggy and distant.

Before any of them could ask what he was talking about, he turned his head and descended into a focused stream of other spirits down below, just above the water of the sea. Jack frowned and looked over the edge and at the other spirits around them. And now that their concentration was more numbered, he was starting to notice something about them all…

He may not know all of them – or half of them to be honest – but even he knew something wasn't right with the spirits around them. Many of them looked tired and sick, whatever minions or helpers they had also displaying poor health and a weary disposition. Water element spirits weren't dripping their usual drops of cool water from their bodies, fire elements were covered in soot and smoking from various places, and other elements just did not look _right_…

Some of them were even too weak to fly, and had to hitch rides from fellow souls as a means to get to the island. Jack was shocked to see a few of these hitch-hikers passed out or lying limply in or on their respective transporter's rides or shoulders.

All of them, every single spirit around them displayed at the very least a tiny amount of weakening or sickness. But some, from the more darker elements, seemed like they were running on caffeine. Some looked like they were in some kind of internal pain, like they had a bad stomach ache. Others were practically leaking excess power and energy into the air and sea.*

Too powerful, not powerful enough, sick, weary, so tired, incapable of moving and flying, some even dropping out of the sky and having to be saved by a fellow soul who could spare the energy…

_What was going on?_

"North…" he started, breathless. The former bandit could only shake his head grimly.

"I know, Jack…" he said.

The island was mere minutes away now, and those who had made it to its shore had either collapsed from exhaustion or were sitting down to take a break. They were just about to pass over them, and Jack was about to ask North if they could go back and help a few of them. But there was no need for this.

From the forest emerged various large animals and creatures – some of which, Jack noted, should be extinct!*

The animals approached a fallen soul and would offer their backs to the exhausted spirits, much to their relief. Steadily, with each landing spirit that was too weak to go on, an animal waited to escort them no doubt to Mother Nature.

They passed over the beach and flew inland towards the central mountain of the island, along with any other spirit that was still able to make the journey themselves. The horizon was a breathtaking sight for Jack, despite what was happening around him. The island seemed to be divided into four sections. On one side was an all green, and lush floral jungle that smelt of dew and fresh grass. Along it was a similar cut of land, but it boasted more floral life with bugs and other small animals bursting from its recesses. On another was one he would really like to visit – it was completely engulfed with snow and ice, the trees that were not pine completely bare of foliage. And just below them was a roaring expanse of orange, yellow, and brown, like a tangible forest fire.

'_The four seasons…'_ he thought, astonished.

North inclined his head over his shoulder, but kept his eyes ahead of them, "Hold on tight! We are entering her domain!" he bellowed.

"Wha…?" Jack swiftly looked up and ahead. They were heading towards the central mountain. Which, upon closer inspection, wasn't a mountain; it was a _volcano_. And all the spirits ahead of them were plunging right into it!

"Uh, North, you sure this is a good idea?" he asked nervously, "You know, being a _winter_ spirit and all that, I don't think-"

"There is no fire or lava in it, Jack." Tooth said reassuringly.

"What?" he asked, frowning, "Well then, what's in it?"

"The Eden."

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

Jack couldn't fully remember what it was he saw when they climbed and plunged into the supposed volcano. All he could really recall was a flash of green, and then suddenly he was here.

Wherever _here_ was…

Jack was awestruck, not just by the lush scenery of what he assumed was The Eden, but also by all the spirits flooding the area. He knew there were lots of spirits in the world, but he never, ever, would have imagined that so many existed.

Shades, wights, wraiths, nymphs, myths, fae and fairy alike all crowded the room – all of which seemed to span the entire underside of the island. It was like an ancient forest without a sky, forever enclosed by an earth and plant covered canopy. But like before, a majority of them seemed tired or sick, all of which were sat down on paths of plush moss or grass. Groups of tiny Nymphs tended to those who were too sick or weak to move, offering whatever plant remedies that grew on or in the island.

It was such a contrasting sight. This beautiful, flora and fauna ruled oasis was now crawling with ailing souls seeking refuge. Those present who weren't ailing or tired stood around with acquaintances and friends, quiet murmurs echoing throughout the underground oasis.

"Why have we been summoned?"

"We should have come sooner! The humans-"

"All of my minions are sick!"

"My lakes have become cesspools!"

"Why would those humans-"

"Mother Nature will know what to do…"

"My land is being destroyed…!"

Jack was unable to catch all the complaints and exclamations the spirits were uttering to one another. One thing was for sure though; something was terribly wrong, and it was effecting everyone around him. And apparently Mother Nature was somehow going to help, or at the very least tell him and the others what was going on.

A bell-like sound averted Jack's gaze to his left. He caught sight of a familiar tri-tasseled hat and wasted no time in flying over to another familiar spirit.

"Harley!"* he called, catching the jester's attention, "Hey, do you know why a lot of these spirits seem so-…"

Jack paused and took in the slumped form before him. Harley's normally colorful clothes were spattered with black and white, as if he had a bucket of white and black paint dumped on him. His blond hair was limp and stained white in various places, and his usual grin was missing from his once healthily pigmented face. And the painted tear drop that once fell under his left eye…

"Harley…what _happened_ to you?" he rasped. He was unable to take his eyes off of the black stain that seemed to engulf half of Harley's face and taper down into his very clothing. The jester sighed.

"I can't make them laugh…" he rasped. His voice was strained, like it hadn't been used in years. The jester took in Jack's appearance briefly.

"You don't seem to be effected…" he said, "That's good. Do you know if Hal made it?"

"Uh…y-yeah, he flew by the sleigh on our way here," Jack said, "But…but Harley, seriously, what's happening? Why does everyone look so sick?"

Harley frowned slightly at the question. Jack couldn't help but shudder at the expression; a frown had _no_ business being on Harley's face. It just wasn't right seeing it on the normally smiling fool's face. And the monochromatic stain on his clothes and skin…

"You really don't know…?" he asked, green eyes narrowing, "How can you not know…?"

"What? Harley, I really don't understand why everyone is-"

"Jack!" North waved his hand at Jack, urging the youngest Guardian over, "It is about to start! Come back here!"

Jack blinked but nodded slowly at North. He looked back at Harley, all of whom was giving Jack the strangest look he'd ever seen on the jester.

"I-I'm sorry, Harley, we'll talk later, okay?" with his parting words, Jack ran back over to his fellow Guardians.

Harley watched him go, his eyes blinking slowly. His painted lips tightened into a thin line.

"Don't be like them, Jack…" the jester sighed and shuffled about to find a place to sit. He was so tired…

Jack soon joined his fellow Guardians in the center of the crowd, just as the room fell into a hush. Everyone seemed to tense and focus on a small upraised platform of earth pushed up against a gigantic tree. The platform consisted of a long wooden table that could seat six people easily on either side, plus an extra two for each of its narrow ends. But there were only two chairs set before the table facing the crowd.

A tunnel suddenly split at the base of the tree, and two figures emerged from it.

One was a man clad in white, silver, and gold. He wore a long white hooded cloak – all of which boasted clockwork embroidery designs on its trail – with inner silver lining, his lean body donned in a formfitting long tunic with slits down the sides starting at his hips. A pair of long and lean legs were donned in a pair of formfitting silver pants, a strange metallic gossamer trailing behind him with each step he took. A belt of gold adorned his waist, all of which was decked with various watches, small hour glasses, and chains. His white boots boasted fairly high heels that, upon closer inspection, were not heels, but fist-sized clock gears. The man looked fairly young, around his mid to late twenties – but like most spirits, he was likely not this young. His neatly tied back hair was a combination of light blond and silver.

His skin was toned an olive-bronze, a much healthier looking complexion that was rare amongst spirits. The man carried himself with a sense of gentility and poise; a strange feat considering the large scythe with a clock face in the base of the blade he held considered. Jack had to squint and stand on his tip-toes to see, but he would swear he could see something of gold and silver lay against the man's left breast; but he was unable to see what it was. What was odd about the man though was the fact that his eyes were shut, as if he were sleeping.*

The woman beside him was a prominent contrast to the man. She was dressed in a long sleeved green dress with intricate patterns and embroidery. The leaf and floral patterns seemed to move and glide along her petite figure like living plants, ivy and flowers tracking behind the train of her dress. Her hair cascaded in an ink-black wave down her back, nearly dragging along the ground. The low light in the room seemed to gravitate to her, butterflies and fallen leaves fluttering around her like eager children.

Unlike the man, who seemed to radiate a sense of gentle calm, she gave off an aura of power and warning; like the coming signs of a storm. She was somewhat pale, but not sickeningly so, but it seemed to emphasis her dignified frown. The air she carried was stern and dignified, like that of a military drill sergeant.

A pair of wood Nymphs scurried over and pulled out the two chairs just as the pair stopped before the table. They took their seats and faced the crowd after composing themselves.

A pause of silence followed before one of them spoke.

"Fellow spirits…" the woman started, her voice echoing throughout the cavern in a clear, commanding tone, "I thank you all for coming, and I sincerely apologize to those who had a difficult journey getting here. But this matter was urgent and required everyone's attention."

A bold spirit – a lake spirit, Jack noted from the water weeds in her hair – approached the platform hesitantly, wringing her dry hands.

"Lady Nature, please, what has become of my lakes? I cannot find them anymore! And my Kelpie are silent!" she cried, desperation visible in her weed-green eyes and trembling voice.

'_Wait, that's Mother Nature?'_ Jack thought. Well, he shouldn't be too surprised, actually. She definitely looked that part, _'But then who's the man beside her…?'_

Mother Nature gave the spirit an impassive look, but there was visible grief in her obsidian eyes.

"Jenny*…I am sorry, but my surface has told me the fate of your home," she said gently, "It happened so suddenly, so you may not remember this, and I am sorry to have to tell you…but your lakes have been drained and dried by the humans."*

The spirit, Jenny Greenteeth, suddenly became ridged. Her eyes widened, her dry skin contorting with the agonized look upon her drained face. Her hands flew to her mouth as her frail body shook and collapsed, curling over her knees. Her silent sobs were the loudest thing in the room, fellow water spirits sharing in her grief.

Shocked and saddened murmurs broke out amongst the crowd, but were hushed when Mother Nature raised a hand for their silence.

"I am sure you are all aware of what is happening around us, and even if you are not fully aware, I know you all can feel it in your hearts." She said. She turned her gaze to the man beside her and nodded towards him.

"Father Time here had forewarned me of the coming events, but I was foolish and did not think to prepare you all for it…"*

"Father Time…?" Jack breathed, staring at the serene man in astonishment. That didn't seem right; all the legends he's heard about Father Time from humans have always depicted him as an elderly man. But then again, a lot of the actual spirits were nothing like their dictating legends.

But this wasn't explaining what was happening!

"Jackson Overland Frost…"

A shudder climbed up Jack's spine from the deep, gentle voice that addressed him. Jack was suddenly the room's center of attention, and he could now see why. Even with closed eyes, it was not hard to miss that Father Time had addressed him. The serenely smiling spirit waved a hand to him.

"You have questions I believe." He said.

Jack swallowed dryly – why was it so dry? – and stared wide eyed at Father Time. He was suddenly unable to look away from that closed-eyed gaze. A cold, metallic taste invaded his mouth, and a cold hand was suddenly around his heart. It felt like he was in a well that was slowly filling with compressing water, crushing the air out of him with no hope of escape. His mind was suddenly compressed, his vision now blackened into the pure nothingness of a void. A kaleidoscope of color suddenly burst within his mind's eye, and he barely felt himself choke on his own breath. His lungs were invalid now, he was drowning, there was water in his lungs, ice in his veins he was drowning he couldn't breathe he was _drowning_ no escape I'm going to die drowing drowning _drowning_-*

"Time…" Mother Nature sounded like she was scolding the man, her frown deepening, "Stop playing with the sprite, and get on with whatever point it is you are making."*

Time chuckled lightly, and suddenly Jack felt his chest released from that suffocating grip, and his vision was filled with the colors of The Eden. He didn't realize he was gripping his chest and panting until North helped him to straighten up and calm down. He was doubled-over, panting with wide, blown pupils as he tried to withdraw himself from that vacuum-like void. He shakily looked back up at the two high spirits, and saw Time grin.

"My apologies…" he said, before focusing back on Jack and cocking his head, "Please, master Frost, whatever it is that is troubling you, we would all like to hear it."

Jack managed to recover the rest of his composure and looked around nervously. There was not a spirit in the area that wasn't staring at him like he was some kind of ethereal being. And all because Time had addressed him? Well, he supposed he'd be staring too now that he thought about it…

He felt Sandy nudge his leg and gave an encouraging nod towards the crowd. He seemed nervous, but eager as well to hear what it is Time expected to hear from Jack.

He looked around one last time and cleared his throat before speaking.

"U-um…y-yeah, I'm a little confused here…" he started, "Mother Nature said we were all aware of what was happening, that we could feel it, but…"

"But you aren't, and you can't, can you?" Time finished for him, his oddly kind smile quirking slightly to one side.*

"Uh, yeah. I mean, I don't think any of us – the Guardians, I mean – know what's going on…" he looked to his fellow spirits, "Erm, right?"

Though hesitant, the others nodded slowly at Jack. A sudden increase in murmurs and whispers erupted around them. Spirits were giving them odd looks not unlike the one Jack got from Harley, some whispering to each other with strange frowns and confused eyes.

Mother Nature herself frowned at this, "You are completely unaware…" it wasn't a question.

"Uh, no…" a punch in the arm from Bunnymund, "Ow-uh, no…ma'am."

Mother Nature slowly nodded and looked over at Father Time. The man paid her no mind, instead continuing to look serenely out into the crowd while absently fiddling with one of the pocket watches on his belt. She made a suspicious noise before clearing her throat and looking back to the spirits.*

"Well then, to answer your question, Jack Frost," she started, eyes sweeping over the crowd, "As of a few years ago, the human world has been steadily shifting into…"

She slowed to a paused, her frown lightening up in a very vague look of surprise. The spirits muttered to one another in concern as Mother Nature looked out over them again. A few of the more timid spirits jumped when she suddenly stood up and swiftly continued to look out over the crowd. Her frown soon returned, but it seemed more concerned than anything else.

"Where is Pitch Black?" she suddenly asked.

A wave of meticulous voices broke out amongst everyone, except the Guardians. Spirits looked around at another and into the shade of trees and foliage, as if they could catch a glimpse of the named Boogeyman. But none were found; no flashes of gold eyes, sharp or jagged teeth, nor of a slender black body contrasting against the more colorful scenery.

"Where is the Boogeyman?"

"I thought no exceptions were to miss this…"

"Do you think he's the cause of our pain?"

"Why else wouldn't he be here!? He caused this!"

"The world is falling into ruin because of him!"

The once hushed voices suddenly became a loud uproar. Mother Nature looked out with a dark glower at the spirits, as if she had been personally insulted. Time, however, continued to look on with an amused smile. Jack only now seemed to realize he was looking right at him, that gentle smile somehow conveying a dark mischief.

"Wait, wait! Everyone! Please, it is not Pitch! I cannot be him!" North tried to bellow over the crowd, but not even he could break out over the rowdy souls.

Mother Nature's head veered over to him, as if she had heard him. The woman narrowed her eyes averted her gaze to a stoic woman dressed in aquamarine and black robes.

"Libra…"* the silent request received, the Spirit of Justice and Order raised a hand.

"**ORDER!**"

The loud, booming bellow that reverberated from the slight woman was deafening and shook the very ground they stood on. Any and all animals that were caught in the fray startled and fled from the earth-shaking command, while all spirits that participated in the chaos were silenced into stunned stupors.

Lips set in a tight frown, Libra lowered her arm and nodded over to Nature.

"Thank you, Judge Libra." Nature said. She fixed everyone in the room a dark looked.

"How dare you all make assumptions due to his absence?" She snapped, "You are all aware of what is happening, and therefore aware that these events are not happening because of too much fear, but _lack_ of fear."

'_What…? No fear?'_ Jack frowned in confusion.

Mother Nature averted her gaze to North, "North, you claim this is not Pitch's doing. And despite my doubts, I want to be certain…" she briefly eyed Father Time out of the corner of her eye, "How do you know it cannot be him?"

The spot light now on them, the Guardians held themselves much better than Jack had when he was at the center of the attention. North waved a hand dismissively as he spoke.

"Bah, is impossible," he started, "He cannot be cause, because seal cannot break without Manny's permission."

Mother Nature's frown deepened, "Seal? What seal?"

"You're all probably aware, but we beat that bloke back into his hole after a take-over attempt fifty years ago,"* Bunny supplied, sounding proud of himself, "We got sick of his constantly clawing on our nerves, so we got help from Manny and sealed him away for a bit of a 'time out'."

"Yes, we all agreed to this, and Man in Moon approved!" North crowed, "So this trouble cannot be Pitch, the seal is made by Manny himself, and is unbreakable without his powers. Pitch cannot even use shadows to get out!"

Complete and utter _silence_.

The sudden shift in atmosphere was like a cold tidal wave that crashed into them, and the change was swift yet steady.

Once unsure and angered expressions contorted into utter horror. Mortified faces just stared at the Guardians, aghast. Many spirits shuffled back and away from them like they carried some kind of plague. The darker spirits were especially mortified, all of them shuffling far into the crowd and as far away from them as possible. No one spoke a word, they just _stared_ at the Guardians like they had suddenly announced they were going to start eating children.

Jack was the first to break the silence, his confusion evident.

"What?" he asked, honestly perplexed, "Hey, the guy had it coming. He nearly killed the Guardians and-"

"You…" the once dozing Hallow was now fully awake, and Jack was oddly disturbed by the horrified look on his pale face, "You sealed him away…?"

"Well…yeah," Jack started, suddenly feeling put off by his friend's look, "He was giving kids nightmares, and again, he nearly killed the other Guardians when he nearly extinguished all belief in them."

Hal was shaking now, "Jack…the Guardians wouldn't have _died_ if they lost all belief…they would just be weakened and lose their powers…" the spirit's hands were shaking around his witch's broom, the weak wisps around him taking refuse in his clothing.

"What…?" Jack frowned and looked around at the other spirits, as if trying to find some means of denial from them.

"Are ye tellin' us…ye sealed away a fellow spirit because he was doing his _job?_" St. Patrick broke in, his voice rasped in his own disbelief.*

"His _job?_ That wasn't a job! That was nearly cutting out all belief in us and scaring the snot out of the ankle-bitters!" Bunnymund snapped.

"But for _fifty years?_" Cupid now broke in, the cherub having to land so he wouldn't crash in his stunned stupor, "You all would be so cold as to confide an already isolated man to a living hell?"

"Now wait a minute! That's not the point!" Tooth defended, "He harmed us, and the children! We had no choice!"

"Yeah, if we let him get off with just having Tooth knock a chopper out of his mouth and let him be dragged home by his own Nightmares, he wouldn't have learned not to mess with us!" Bunny snapped.

Loud gasps echoed around the cavern, followed by disturbed and frightened muttering and talking. By this point, Jack was completely lost now, his mind unable to keep up with all these raging emotions and fears. He knew it was a harsh punishment, yes, but if it meant Pitch would learn his lesson and leave the Guardians and the kids alone, then he was going to provide his own support in it.

But that look Hal was still giving him…it was like he was seeing something in Jack for the very first time. Something he never wanted to see, and had never even dreamed of seeing in him; he looked like he had been _betrayed_. It put Jack on edge, and it frightened him.

"Hal, come on, back us up here, we're not hurting anyone." He tried to reason.

Hal continued to shake like a frightened animal and covered his mouth, shakily shuffling over to hide behind the towering form of Patrick. The vigilant Leprechaun put a hand on a shaking shoulder and glared nastily down his nose at Jack and the Guardians.

"Ye all are _sick!_" he barked, "Not hurting anyone? How dare ye! Would ye lock Hal up because he scares kids sometimes? Would ye have him or any other wraith or dark soul sealed away because it is their Time and Nature given duty to frighten others!?"*

"What? No! Of course not! Hal is harmless!" North defended, holding his hands up.

"Oh? What 'bout Cupid? He's capable of manipulating hate an' love to his whim, are ye going to lock 'im up too?" Patrick snarled, "Or Harley, we all know there are plenty of kids scared of 'im cause of how he looks. Would ye have 'im locked up like a rabid beast too?"*

"What? No! Why would we-!?" Jack was cut off as other spirits started spouting their own accusations at he and the Guardians.

Mother Nature, however, was silent, her eyes wide and her mouth set into a tight line. She looked stunned, as if she had suddenly been slapped. The onslaught of voices finally seemed to register in her head, and when they did, it was like a string had snapped.

"You _sealed _him…?" she hissed quietly.

But it was loud enough to be heard by all, including the Guardians. Everyone fell into a hush again, but this time they did not look at Mother Nature or resume their composed positions. Rather they all lowered themselves into submission, as if preparing for an attack. A rainbow of assorted eyes remained locked on the Guardians, but it was the pair of obsidian orbs that locked onto them like missals that gave them pause.

Mother Nature's eyes constricted into black holes, her frown contorted into a dark, pain promising glower. The wind howled and roared around her as her ire increased, billowing her dress and hair in a vicious display of the pure, untamable wrath of nature itself.

"How…dare you…" she growled, "How…how _**DARE YOU!?**_"

In one fell swoop of wind, she was on the Guardians like a ravenous beast. Vines and roots erupted from the ground under them and quickly bound their bodies to the spot, and none too gently. Tooth yelped as her wings were bound and constricted by roots like snake coils. Angered birds swooped down and stole their weapons, the wind roaring wildly in their ears in a macabre imitation of angered shrieking.

The wind let up just the slightest bit, enough so they could open their eyes and not be pelted by debris. But they suddenly wished for the wind again, as they came face to face with the visage of Nature's wrath.

"Take me to him." She hissed.

"M-Mother Nature, why are you-?"

"Take me to him **NOW!**" she shrieked. She turned to look at a frightened Sandy bound in her roots, and suddenly released him.

"You! You are going to be a good little sand-flea and summon your Moon," she snarled, "Tell him Nature demands his audience, and she will _not_ take no for an answer!"

Sandy looked to his fellow Guardians, his expression full of worry and fear. He looked to them and back to Nature, a tiny question mark forming over his head.

"I will decide whether or not I spare them from my wrath," Nature hissed, before she leaned down to Sandy and growled, "But mark my words Sandman, if your Moon refuses an audience with me, you can rest assured that they will become _plant-food._"

Jumping, Sandy nodded again and hopped up onto his Dreamsand cloud. He gave the Guardians one last worried look before flying off as fast as he could.

Once he was gone, Nature turned her attention back to the Guardians. Her gaze was merciless.

"Do you have _any_ idea what you have done?" she hissed.

"Mo-…Mother Nature…" Tooth squeaked out form her tight binds, "Please, we don't understand why this is such a serious offence! His acts would have been a crime even in your eyes!"

"How _dare_ you patronize me?" Mother Nature tightened the binds around Tooth, but North suddenly grunted out a defense before anyone could get hurt.

"Mother Nature! Please, explain to us," he rasped, "What has this to do with the other spirits' conditions? What crime have we committed?"

"Are ye lot so oblivious that you-!?"

"Hush, Patrick…" Nature snapped, causing the Leprechaun to back off. She sneered at the Guardians before her.

"You want to know why I am so angry? Do you honestly not see why my ire was incurred by your imprisoning of Pitch Black?" she inquired.

"P-please…! We just want to understand!" Bunny choked.

The wind calmed slightly, but did not fully let up. The binds around the Guardians only loosened enough for them to breathe properly, but they still remained suspended and bound. A bemused chuckle broke out over the whistling wind, causing all eyes to avert to the time spirit now joining Mother Nature at her side.

"It's simply amazing how naively _human_ you all can be…"* he chuckled, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear.

"Time…" Mother Nature grit out, her hands clenching.

"Oh hush dear, you can't expect to punish them without telling them of their crimes, can you?" he inquired, quirking a brow.

Mother Nature only clenched her hands harder, a few small roots crawling up Time's boots. He merely chuckled and ignored them, looking towards the Guardians with his sealed eyes.

"Our beloved Earth has been plunged into a World War recently, all of which is destroying realms and claiming lives, both immortal and mortal, left and right," he started, "And all because nation rulers have no fear of stealing lives and consequences."

His mouth suddenly widened into a grin, a flash of sharp teeth and a pointed tongue ghosting over full lips.*

"You Guardians of Childhood damned an entire civilization, children and all, to an early grave, because your pride would not allow the King of Fear to exist…"

To be continued…

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

_A/N~ Hahah, wow, this was actually pretty interesting to write! Next up, Mother Nature and the Guardians summon MiM and unlock Pitch's prison. But will all be well after that? And what's to become of Jack's friendships with some of the other spirits? Find out next time!_

_- I honestly have NO idea what Mother Nature's realm would be like, or if she even has one. But we'll just settle for my version of 'generic' in this until the next book comes out. Speaking of, apparently it's been pushed back until October. F*** THE WORLD._

_- It is mentioned in various wikis that William Joyce's Mother Nature can control lighting and storms, and uses them as a means of defense._

_- You all should know about my OC Hal by now. He gets around by riding a witch's broom that can rocket at great speeds by jettisoning fire from its sweep. _

_- It has been stated that Wil-o-wisps have also been called 'Jack-o-lanterns'. I found this very fitting, and incorporated them into Hal's character as his helpers - much like Tooth's fairies or North's Yetis. They are usually a ghostly blue and a bit mischievous, but colors such as orange or yellow are signs of poor health._

_- We'll be getting a small lesson on what he means by 'Remnants' in the next chapter or later! Hint: it has to do with lost and departed souls. You get cookies if you guess what these Remnants are._

_- The reason for this should be obvious by now, but if not; due to all the 'negative' happenings on Earth, the darker spirits, all of whom that feed off that negative energy, are basically getting too much of it, which can cause overloads in power or pain from excess energy. Too much of a good thing, so to speak._

_- *shrug* I honestly see Mother Nature's home as a kind of 'safe zone' to any and all animals that may be existed on the current Earth. If it's extinct, it's very likely to be on her island. Watch out for dinosaurs!_

_- Another OC of mine, Harlequin Aprils is the spirit of April Fool's day, and brings laughter and mirth into the world. He's almost always wearing a grin, and is always on the lookout for anyone in need of a smile or a good laugh._

_- A headcanon for almost ALL of my FTs. Father Time's eyes are almost literal windows into The Time Stream. If one were to look into them, they could see all of the past, present, and future. But it is a wild force, and no one mortal or immortal's mind could survive such an onslaught of information. Anyone who looks into his eyes will go mad before they can learn anything about their own or any other timeline. As such, Father Time is asked to keep his eyes either closed or blindfolded when he's attending a public audience with others._

_- Jenny is actually Jenny Greenteeth, a lake spirit said to inhabit bodies of water. She is depicted as a darker sort of spirit said to drag children and elderly into the water to be killed. But there are some myths dictating her as a river spirit who guides wandering travelers away from danger around the water._

_- If you saw 'Spirited Away' this should be somewhat familiar. Some spirits are actually said to completely forget their origins if the place they were born and named after are destroyed. In this case, Jenny does not recall having her lakes drained, or where they are supposed to be, due to either the shock or her connection to them being severed._

_- Another headcanon for my FTs. He is omnipotent and can tell the future at his whim._

_- Another headcanaon for this FT. Time here is a very darkly playful sorts, but he is not 'evil'. He is not considered malevolent or benevolent; rather he is as kind and cruel as one's time itself. Your life in your time may not always be a happy experience, nor is it always a bad one. This translates through Father Time as a rather two-sided entity with misleading tactics. He is not as straightforward as Mother Nature, and enjoys 'playing' with others by using a small fraction of his powers to fill an individual with a sense of overwhelming dread that can come from either the past or future. In this case, he resurfaced Jack's drowning from when he was human._

_- Time uses a psychological form of 'teasing' or 'coaxing'. He's basically using a passive-aggressive method to slowly draw attention onto the Guardians and expose their crime. He finds these mind games very amusing, and will drag them out for as long as he finds convenient._

_- Being a fellow spirit with equal power over life on earth, Nature is very aware of Time's nature and his methods. She quickly becomes suspicious of him when he seems to focus on one individual, and will usually have no choice but to play in on his game to get the answers he knows she needs._

_- You may have heard of this minor OC in my fic 'Death and Darkness'. The Spirit of Justice and Order, Judge Libra Justine, is able to call forth order in a chaotic situation with just her voice alone. However, it is ineffective against anyone who can't hear her, whether due to a physical, mental, or actual deafness._

_- Let the record show that __**fifty years**__ have passed in this since Pitch's imprisonment. That's a LONG time to be locked away in a small cavern._

_- Another minor OC, St. Patrick. This is one of two versions I have of him. In this, he is a VERY large Irish man with pointed ears and wears a green, gold, and black suit. Think of an Irish bouncer, and you got the right image for him in my head. He's VERY protective of the more younger and weaker spirits._

_- Headcanon of Sumi; not ALL spirits were 'created' by MiM. The majority of them were born from Time and Nature's influence and magic. Or in some cases, they are 'descendants' of past spirits. Hal himself was the succeeding apprentice to Samhain before the old Halloween spirit passed on and returned his power to Nature and Time._

_- Fear of clowns, which is not always a phobia, but rather just a huge discomfort for people in big shoes, red noses, and weird make-up. Though in this case, Harley has none of these things, aside from just a few touches of make-up – but he doesn't have the full on white-mask._

_- While some spirits sneer and scoff at human idiocy, Time finds their antics humorous, BECAUSE they act like idiots sometimes. _

_- Time here is a bit seductive in terms of his more subtle actions and body language. Time is a very wanton and desired concept after all, who WOULDN'T want to dominate or control time?_

_Enjoy!_

_**Now edited!**_

_~S~_


	4. Chapter 4

**Solitary Confinement.**

Ch.4

_A/N~ Alright, due to the weirdness of poll results, I'm going to pretty much disregard any pairings in this. Seriously. Though I did consult the prompter (aka my wifey Plush~) and we worked a nice scenario out! So! No pairings, but there will be slight implications and maybe some fluff, but that's it. Any pairings brought out of this would, as Plush says, would be more or less brought out of guilt. Guilt a healthy relationship does not make. Period. _

_So! That being said, we shall proceed with the angst! And at the request of Plush, we get to see more of Hal! So please excuse any 'over exposure' of my OC, I can't help it, we both love the little guy. And get ready for some more ANGST and WHUMP and SHAME~_

_Enjoy!_

_~S~_

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

North's sleigh was not to be their method of transportation, or so Mother Nature had said. Without any preamble or thought, Nature demanded North to use one of his Snowglobes to take them to Burgess and to the entrance to Pitch's lair. But only after she drew them all closer to her face with her binding vines and hissing,

"If your Moon and little sand-fly are not there, I will feed you all to my flytraps. _Alive_."

The threat was only made more real by the hissing of some rather large looking Venus Flytraps just at the entrance of the tunnel they had arrived through. North had one of his arms briefly released so he could take a globe out of his coat. Mother Nature snatched the globe away and clutched it in one of her hands before she turned back to the crowding spirits behind her.

"As for the rest of you, any and all of whom have been affected by these imbecile's actions, I urge you to remain in The Eden for your own safety," Nature announced, "You will be able to continue your jobs from here with the help of my Nymphs."*

Confirming murmurs and nods were given as the crowd steadily broke up, various spirits going to find a place to rest off their illness and fatigue. While the more darker and overcharged souls tried to find ways to expel their excess energy as safely as possible. Once she was sure everyone was settling, Nature scowled back at the Guardians.

The vines detached themselves from the ground but still bound the Guardians in a slightly weaker hold.

"Hal." Nature said, not taking her eyes from the Guardians.

The weary wraith, still hiding in the refuge of Patrick's suit jacket and muscular arm, nodded at the silent request and propped his broom up against a tree. He pushed out of the Leprechaun's hold and clenched his oversized gloves into tight fists. Cinders fell in hot flakes off his burning hands, smoke billowing into the air in dull black plumes. His hands shook briefly before they stopped, and he opened his palms. Two long lengths of raw metal chains were revealed in the oversized palms, the metal links smoking and still heated from their formation.*

Without a word, Hal shuffled towards the Guardians and wrapped their wrists with the chains, leaving only around a foot of slack between their wrists. He deftly yet meticulously welded the chairs around each other their wrists, drawing hisses and winces from the still hot metal being tightly soldered to their limbs. When one set of handcuffs was complete, he would burn the excess length off, reattach it to the slack in front of them, then move onto the next. He faced the last Guardian, Jack, and kept his gaze downwards from the winter sprite.

He couldn't block out Jack's pleading voice though, "Hal…please, don't do this." He pleaded.

"Arms up, wrists up." Hal quietly yet apathetically requested.

"Hal, this isn't like you! Please, you gotta believe us and-"

"Shut ye gob and do as the lad says ye swine!" Patrick snapped, brandishing his golden brass-knuckles.*

Jack immediately shut his mouth at the threat of being on the receiving end of the Leprechaun's gold knuckles. He gave Hal one last pleading look before sighing and offering his wrists to the wraith. The Halloween herald cuffed his hands and welded on the excess to the slack, linking the Guardians together in a line. Everyone now chained together, Hal turned and offered the lead strip of chain to Mother Nature.

She took the chain and clutched it in one hand, the other occupied by the globe. She shook the globe absently and before uttering their destination into it.

"Burgess, the entrance to the Boogeyman's prison."

A vortex of color exploded as she threw the globe. Her eyes remained trained onto the Guardians in her clutches briefly before her gaze averted to the serenely standing Father Time.

She opened her mouth, as if about to say something, but immediately closed it with a loud click of her teeth. Time only smiled gently at her.

"Tick tock my dear." He purred, gesturing to the – Jack had to do a double take – small, round gold and silver clock imbedded in his left breast*, "Time's running out."

Nature's hackles rose, the vines binding the Guardians suddenly growing small thorns in time with her ire. She swiftly turned her head away from Time and yanked on the chains. She lead the Guardians forward and towards the vortex, and out into the dark woods of Burgess…

**x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x**

Burgess, being a small, quaint little town, almost always had clear skies and even clearer nights. Every star one could imagine could be seen in its skies, and the moon would always be ever bright and dominate the blue-black canvas that made up the horizon's veil. But now, it seemed like the sky had been stained, the silken blue veil bleached with clouds of pollution and smoke. The air was thin and smelled of exhaust and other dirty fumes. The forest trees were nearly barren, bearing only but a few pathetic, dark leaves desperately clinging to branches like men on a noose.

It was so different from what Jack remembered.

Jack hadn't been to Burgess in almost ten years. Far too many memories were in that little town, all of them cherished by none but him. The Burgess kids who had once been so little, so brave, had long since grown up. It was so long ago, but even still, Jack could remember each day one child took to forget him. Birthdays had never seemed so bleak to Jack at that time, but with each candle added onto a cake, a believer was lost. All but Jamie had forgotten about him – all through middle school, to high school, even through college! And Jack, naïve Jack, held out the hope Jamie would always be able to see him. But one day, the Bennett boy – not so much a boy anymore – slowly started slipping into the adult world. A couple years after his marriage to a college sweetheart, he walked through Jack when the sprite had come by to say hi.

That was over thirty years ago, and after that, he progressively stopped coming to Burgess as the years passed. And yet here he was again. Back in the same town that once held his first handful of believers, and yet it looked no brighter than a crushed firefly under someone's shoe.

His once home now felt like a desolate land of memories that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

A yank on his chain brought Jack's attention back to the problem at hand. Nature took in the dry, infertile ground before them. He felt a shudder go up his spine as they crossed the edge of the small clearing.

The ground in the center of the grove was as bare as he remembered. The only indication of anything being once there was the burst of darkened soil surrounding what was once the entrance to Pitch's lair. One would think someone had set off a rather large firework in the spot, and yet the burst of burned dirt remained after all this time.

Jack and the others were relieved to see Sandy heatedly pacing just on the other side of the clearing, concern marring his pudgy face with worry lines and a creased frown.

"Sandy!" Jack called, his bleak mood somewhat lifting at the sight of the gold Guardian.

Sandy's head shot up to look at his name being addressed. A relieved smile broke his face as he swiftly flitted over to the Guardians. But he frowned and stared in shock at the chains around their wrists. He was about to inquire why they were chained up like common prisoners, but was cut off by Nature.

"Where is your Moon, worm?" she hissed.

Sandy seemed to remember just why he was there and what he was supposed to do. Frantic and flustered, he hastily formed various images in a silent tale of complications. Apparently their Moon was working to break through the clouds – which, upon closer inspection, were not clouds, but plumes of pollution.*

Mother Nature clenched her hands and bared her teeth at the Sandman, causing the star to fidget. Sighing through her nose, Nature raised a hand up towards the sky. She mentally grasped the wind and pushed them up into the atmosphere. Slowly yet steadily, the haze of pollution began to clear away, revealing a faint light of the moon breaking through the other side until the moon was fully visible through the cleared ring of haze. Moonbeams shot down along the edges of the haze to keep it at bay as the winds died down.

Her hand shaking, Nature released her weak hold on the wind and sighed shakily, obviously weary. North made to help support her, but the nature spirit slapped his hand away.*

"Don't you _dare_…" she snarled. She looked over the Guardians with an expectant scowl.

"Well?" she hissed.

"Ah, we be needing weapons to break seal," North said hesitantly, "They were infused with magic to become seal's keys."

Growling lowly to herself, Nature waved a hand. Browned vines sprung up from the ground, clutching the Guardians' confiscated weapons. The frail vines released the swords, boomerang, and staff before they shuddered and withered away.*

"Now stop stalling and open the seal." She hissed.

Though hesitant, the Guardians picked up their weapons – North's sabers, Tooth's rapiers, Jack's staff, and Bunny's boomerangs. Sandy himself brought out a seashell from his suit and joined the others as they surrounded the hole.* Above them, the Moon shone brighter and sent down a single, narrow beam of light onto the center of the covered hole.

When it touched down, the seal revealed itself in a phantasm display of glowing blue lines and shapes circling the lair. The Guardians looked to one another worriedly, but a warning glare from Nature prompted them into proceeding. Each Guardian, after working out the chain links, took a place around the seal before placing their weapons over its edge.

The reaction was near instantaneous. A loud, strained _crack_ was heard, like contorted glass finally starting to give under pressure. And like glass, visible cracks formed over the seal, spider-webbing out towards the edges. The seal seemed to shudder, and the Moonbeam strengthened and thickened, suddenly plunging into the seal like a baseball through a car window.

The loud, ear-piercing sound of glass shattering was deafening and painful, as if the shards of glass themselves had plunged into the gathered spirits' eardrums. The seal literally shattered under the Moonbeam, the glowing lines and shapes vanishing into phantom gossamer.

All that was left in the clearing now was a perfectly round hole that seemed to endlessly plunge into the earth. A booming gust of air shot out of it, as if the seal had also surpassed the air inside of it.

Nature yanked on the chain, prompting the others to gather around the revealed hole with her. All eyes stared down into its depths. It was endless darkness, an inky blackness that not even Sandy's night-vision could penetrate. Had it always been this dark?

A rustling sound – like water rushing down a drain, or air whooshing down a tunnel – blared silently through the tunnel. But with each passing second, it was getting louder. And louder…

Bunny's eyes widened and his ears pricked up, "Back off!"

He barely had a moment to make sure everyone was a few steps away, before the hole erupted like a miniature volcano. Inhuman shrieks that turned blood icy cold and stole away mortal's sanity echoed around the clearing. The geyser of black sand and shadows was thick and dense, a roiling mass of cackling, shrieking, whispering darkness. All of it sent everything within the clearing reeling, sensations of madness, fear, compression, oppression, _suffocation!_

Everyone stared wide-eyed and stunned as the eruption of shadows shot for the sky and moonlight before bursting into a whirlpool that spread out over the grove. The Moonbeams writhed as the darkness bit and thrashed at them. And all around them, the Guardians and Nature could hear voices among the shrieking masses. Whispers and screams and cries, burning cold emotions of madness, fear, compression, oppression, _suffocation can't breathe can't breathe let me out please someone help help me let me out let me out __**LET ME **__**OUT!**_

The Moon suddenly brightened, as if struck, before sending down more powerful Moonbeams. Dozens upon dozens of beams of light shot like bullets down into the writhing masses of black sand and shadows, all piercing each abyssal essence like bullets through butter.

No one thought the loud screaming could get any worse. But the moment the Moon's beams plunged through the mass of darkness, their hearing was practically lost. The writhing vortex of blackness was laced with the illuminating light, the sand particles and wisps of shadows destabilizing into a writing, unstable mass. His power fading with time, the Moon shoved the last of his strength into another burst of light, plunging it all the way down into the abyss of the earth.

The white inferno engulfed the shadows and sand fully at that point, the screams slowly being muffled and dying down as each grain and shade was extinguished. Once the last voice was silenced, the shadows collapsed, leaving behind nothing but dark glass-like particles, and strange forms and silhouettes burned into the trees and ground surrounding them. The Moon's light suddenly cut off, the satellite dimming as his power waned.

A long moment of silence smothered the grove, the Guardians and Nature still stunned into defensive huddles around one another. But once it became apparent that the mental attack was over, they all slowly uncurled themselves from their guarded positions.

Mother Nature, covered in a protective shield of earth against a tree, slowly allowed the chunks of dirt and rock to fall away from her. The Guardians were worse for wear from the assault on their senses, but overall unharmed. Jack groaned and held his head from the splitting pounding behind his eyeballs. He cracked his eyes open to survey the area. But all he could see was a thick wall of ice. Somewhere during the whole ordeal, Jack had thrown up a wall of ice to block out the bombarding mental-attack, but it had only served to muffle it at best.

The Guardians, still slightly incapacitated from the overwhelming stimuli, were briefly rendered deaf and blind to the world around them, their hearts hammering into his ribcages and blood rushing through their ears. The return of their senses was both a relief and a curse; pain erupted behind their eyelids and in their eardrums.

"Get up." Was the curt demand looming over the doubled over Guardians.

Nature hovered over them impatiently, her face still set in her customary scowl. She didn't seem to be at all effected by the metal attack, but the shaking of her fists betrayed her stoicism.

North shakily got to his feet with the help of his sabers, "Mother Nature, please, this is not safe. We cannot risk going down there and-"

The red Guardian's words were cut off by a rather sharp dagger of obsidian being pressed through his beard and against his throat. The others were instantly on their feet and alert, but unable to bring themselves to even thinking about attacking Nature – even as she held a knife to North's neck.

"Let me set a few things straight here…" Nature said calmly, "I _do not_ care if any of you perish down in that hole. The only reason I brought you here with me is to undo the seal, and use your bodies for shields should any Fearlings or Nightmares attack."

"None of you are a necessity. I could not care less if any of you die; you are of no real importance to this world after all. All of your so called 'centers' are not things that keep humans or my planet alive. All of your wonder, hope, memories, dreams, your _fun_, it is all obsolete. The only reason I do not gut you all right now is because I know other spirits would weep for you…"*

Nature pushed the dagger further to North's neck until the tip pricked his jugular.

"And believe me, Guardians, I am _not_ a merciful woman…"

The volcanic glass blade left North's neck at her last words, the tip glistening with the tiniest drop of blood, all of which was swiftly flicked down onto the ground – as if the Guardian's blood was toxic to her blade. She picked up their chain and yanked them towards the hole.

"Jack, Sandman, come here." She demanded.

The frost sprite froze up at this and dry-swallowed. Whether it was remnants from the mental attack from the shadows and Nightmare sand, or something else, Jack was scared. He was scared of Mother Nature, one of the very beings who defined his very element. Of a being who _threatened_ his and the others' lives without remorse.

He startled when he felt Sandy place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The Dreamweaver gave the sprite a reassuring, though meek, smile. Jack gave a grateful nod to the star and approached Mother Nature with Sandy in tow.

Nature grabbed his wrists and broke his chains with a deft tug. Jack wasn't sure whether to be relieved his wrists were free from their tight confines, or frightened that such a petite woman could snap Hal's chains with a flick of her wrists. He rubbed at his sore wrists as Nature glared at the other Guardians.

"The rest of you will stay up here," she said, "These two will accompany me below. And if I should come back, and you all have run off…"

Her blade was suddenly pointed between Jack's eyes, paralyzing the stunned spirit in his place.

"Consider your youngest addition dead. Again." The steady, unwavering threat was not to be taken lightly. Whether anyone knew her well or not, everyone knew Nature was not a merciful, nor a kind, force.

The elder Guardians shakily nodded, all the while restraining themselves from making protests. There was nothing they could do in the long run; even if they ran, they could never escape Nature. This was her planet after all, and there was no place that could hide them from her ever present eyes or ears. There would be no forest, no mountain, no ocean, cave, island, or stone they could hide under. Everything spoke to Nature.

The woman directed the two Guardians towards the opened hole, pointing down into its depths with her blame.

"Go." She ordered.

Shooting one last worried glance at their fellow Guardians, Sandy and Jack plunged down into the abyssal tunnel. Nature waited above until Sandy's glow vanished, and the two touched bottom. Jack's staff lit up in a light blue glow, sweeping it over the area – but all he could see was darkness. Sandy shivered and formed himself a blanket of sand, his teeth chattering. It was freezing cold in the cavern; both spirits could see their own breath even in the dark.

"Well?" they heard Nature call down.

"Oh, uh, we don't see anything! It's too dark!" Jack called up. A scoff from above, before the sound of rustling earth was heard.

Nature landed with a billow of her emerald dress, the dark earth flaking off of her body like jumping insects. She looked around the dark cavern and frowned. She couldn't barely see the other two a few feet from her, their own light obscured by the smothering shadows.

"He is alive, and still down here…" she said quietly.

"Um, how do you-?"

"The shadows. They're eating up your light," Nature's frown deepened, her eyes becoming cat-like slits, "They're _hiding_ something."

Hiding? Like they were hiding Pitch? Or was Pitch using them to hide himself? Jack looked to Sandy with these questions in mind, but the star could only shrug and fidget nervously under the looming shadows. Nature's eyes surveyed the cavern, but even with her borrowed night-vision, she still could not see even half the cavern.* She blinked and her eyes returned to normal, locking onto the Sandman.

"Spread your sands over this cavern, light it up." She said curtly.

Sandy immediately protested with various images. It was too dangerous. The shadows could taint his sand, they could form more Nightmares and escape and-

"I don't care you little worm!" Nature snapped, backing the star into a wall, "Now either light up this cave, or I cut you open and spill your sand myself!"

Jack grit his teeth, his knuckles whitening around his staff. He wanted so badly to defend Sandy, but even he wasn't stupid enough to challenge Nature. Before all of this, he would have openly said he could take her on. But now that's he's met her…he could feel something, like a connection to her. But it wasn't a mutual connection – it was the connection shared between a dog, a leash, and its owner. One small, wrong step, and he'd be tugged back. But one really bad move, and he could hang himself. And if he bit back, he could be beaten. He was under her thumb, damned by his own Nature given element.

The Sandman swallowed audibly when Nature presented an all too familiar dagger to him, and he nodded bleakly. Nature stood back a few paces as the Sandman rose up into the air. He spread his arms out, tendrils of Dreamsand flowing from his fingertips and into the walls. The gold veins spread throughout the dark stone and earth, steadily lighting up the cavern as the sands chased the shadows away into corners and crevices. The cavern was dimly lit with only meager shadows spotting a few areas between rocks and cracks. But no one paid attention to what was around the small cavern – rather they were focused on what was hanging in the back of it against the back wall.

The twisted, grotesque and narrow tower of Nightmare sand was like solid rock. Plastered to the back wall, it looked like a macabre cocoon that held an equally horrifying butterfly.* Stray shadows clung to it weakly like sickly parasites, vague whispers being heard from its confines.

"What…" Jack started, "_Is_ that?"

Nature did not answer him. Eyes wide and mouth pulled into a tight frown, she rushed over to the cocoon. The Fearlings clinging to it hissed and spat at Mother Nature.

_**Leave this place!**_

_**He is OURS!**_

_**He does not exist! He is our vessel!**_

_**You will not take our toy!**_

_**He's MINE!**_

"No he is NOT!" Nature drew her dagger, the weapon expanding into a long sword, before swinging it across the cocoon.

The Fearlings shrieked as a black essence spilled from the cut like organs from a gutted pig. She raised her sword again before striking once, twice, thrice, expanding the cuts and tears in the confined prison holding the Nightmare King.

The two Guardians watched in stunned, and disturbed, awe as the cocoon finally gave way. Its front split open with a loud _crack_, exposing its occupant. Their eyes widened to impossible sizes, and Nature dropped her sword.

If ever there was a more frightening sight in the word, this was it. If ever there was something out there that made one want to run in terror but also want to embrace, this was it. If ever there was a moment in which one wanted to scream, plead, cry, and laugh, this was it.

And if ever there was a time and a place where Nature itself would weep for but one soul, this was it.

Pitch Black's emaciated body was bound and gagged in a web of shadows within the broken cocoon. His arms were pinned to his sides, his palms up and facing them – small daggers of Nightmare sand were imbedded in his palms, pinning them to the back of the cocoon and dripping puddles of black blood onto the floor. Piano-wire thin tendrils of sand were wrapped around his limbs and neck, slicing into his skin and causing various bleeding lacerations to paint his paper-white body black. More of the wire thin strands were wrapped around his legs, cutting into his leggings and flesh. His cloak was missing, and each and every bone was visible on his skeletal body. His hipbones looked sharp enough to cut through steel, his body not but flesh and ridges of bone.

The Boogeyman's eyes and mouth were covered with what looked to be tattered shreds of his cloak, a thicker cord of Nightmare sand tied around his neck and yanked upwards like a hangman's noose.*

And in the center of his chest, a dagger of solid Nightmare sand.* Infecting his very blood with its essence, the Nightmare King was now ruled and held prisoner in his own nightmare.

Nature screamed.

To be continued…

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

_A/N~ A bit of a shorter chapter, but fear now! Next chapter is coming up! Yay for double-updates!_

_- Headcanon for MN. Her 'minions' are the elemental Nymphs depicted in myth. I think it's quite fitting actually. Here in this fic, her Nymphs can go anywhere in the world through their given element. For example, a water Nymph can jump into a source of water, and come up through a different one on the other side of the world. This is a good method to help spirits who do work around the world, as the Nymphs can open 'portals' for them._

_- OC headcanon. Hal, being a pure fire elemental, is able to form metals and metal items from his bare hands. It likely stems from his being an assistant blacksmith when he was human._

_- OC headcanon. My Leprechaun's main weapons are his golden brass-knuckles and gold horse-shoe daggers. Almost all of his weapons are made of gold, silver, and jewels._

_- My Father Time has a round, gold and silver clock imbedded in his left breast, above his heart. Rumor has it he replaced his actual heart with the clock, but he has yet to confirm or deny this._

_- This is an example of a steady increase in the death of their world. In this, Jack has been staying at North's when Jamie stopped believing in him, so he was unaware of the steady spread of doom and gloom over the world. The Guardians are cooped up in their homes all the time too, it's no surprise they were a bit oblivious. _

_- The Earth is Mother Nature's creation and an extension of herself. If it dies, so does she. But right now she is just significantly weaker. Earth is a resilient thing after all, but the humans, no matter how stupid they can be, are still her creations and responsibility. _

_- Another example of the decline in Earth's health. Nature's powers are strongest in her Eden, but outside of it, and on infertile ground, it is very weak._

_- As far as I know, Sandy is the only Guardians that does not possess a 'physical' weapon. His Sand Whips don't count to me, so in this he used a seashell as a key._

_- Well it's true. All their centers are NOT a form of necessity to the Earth's life, though they can somewhat help in people's drive and encouragement. But they are not things that are going to get you through life at a mature pace._

_- Headcanon for MN. She can 'borrow' animal and plant abilities for a brief time. In this, she borrowed a cat's night vision to take a look around the cave, though it didn't help much since it wasn't 'natural' darkness. _

_- This should be VERY ironic to those of the RotG community. I actually think it's a lovely metaphor!_

_- Keep in mind, solitary confinement is one thing. But not being able to MOVE in confinement can enhance and completely wreck one's senses and bodily functions. ESPECIALLY if it's been going on for some 50 years._

_- Oh ye irony, thou art a heartless bitch. Time has a way of repeating itself as they say, and sometimes it can be a complete carbon copy of past events._

_Enjoy!_

_**Now edited!**_

_~S~_


	5. Chapter 5

**Solitary Confinement.**

Ch.5

_A/N~ YAAAAWWWNNNN~ Whelp, can't say I didn't plow through this one unscathed *cracks back* damn I need a new chair…_

_Anyways, please enjoy the double update! I know I said I was going to focus on SiNG, but it seems my mental schedule is just as erratic as a puppy on caffeine. Oh also, to __**Pretzel-logic**__, I AM SO SORRY I haven't updated SK! I'm SO SORRY! I have hit a MAJOR writers block with it, and not to mention my overall plot for it was limited to a certain point. Which means I basically dove into it, literally, half-cocked. But I shall get through it! I swear it!_

_Enjoy!_

_~S~_

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

Whatever had happened down within the broken bowels of Pitch's lair was nothing but a blur to the three that went down there. Jack could scarcely remember being shouted at by Nature to _get him down!_ And this was after she was done screaming into nothingness like a madwoman. It was like he was on autopilot, or outside his own body…

It was all a blur, he felt like he was watching a badly made movie through his own eyes. Watching, as his own hands fumbled and shook, slick with black blood as his fingers tried to pry out the dagger buried in a bony sternum. Sandy fared little better, but he had at the very least managed to simply dispel the black sand in the Nightmare King's hands with his own Dreamsand.

He could vaguely recall Nature screaming at him to hurry, to get him down, _right now!_ He couldn't recall the frozen tears streaking his face, nor the shaking of his body as his hands only continued to slip and fumble. In the end his frustration won out, and he froze the dagger into a blunter, longer shard, before yanking it out with an anguished keen.

The Boogeyman fell like a broken doll to the floor in a silent heap. Sandy went to check him over, but was aggressively shoved aside by Mother Nature with an animalistic hiss.

Jack could only watch, oblivious to his hyperventilating, as Nature gently, tenderly, lifted the Boogeyman's torso up into her arms and cradled him against her chest. Her hands shook, and her touch was hesitant and frightened – like she was handling a brittle glass bird.

Or a broken glass butterfly…*

She reached up to remove the gag and blindfold. But she relented, her body lurching with a barely concealed keen. She hugged the Boogeyman's frail body close yet loosely to her bosom, her head dropping against his overly-prominent collarbone as she shook with repressed grief.

The silence of the cavern was only broken by Jack's ragged breathing, Nature's hissing keens, and the steady _drip_ of Pitch's blood on the floor. Still shaking, Jack looked down at his hands, but only came face to face with what he had callously pulled out – _put in_ – the Boogeyman's chest.

The ice had partly melted, but it was still soaked in the ink black blood that once flooded the shade's body. And yet, it was nothing but dirtied fluid pouring from gaping wounds and leaking from a gagged mouth. The crystalline dagger held in his hands dripped with it. It flowed and trickled over his shaking white hands – as if he himself had committed a murder…*

"You did this…"

The strained, biting hiss drew Sandy and Jack's attention back to Nature. The woman was still clutching delicately at Pitch like he was some precious porcelain doll. Her eyes were constricted into furious orbs, and her white teeth were bared in a raged snarl.

"You did this to him…" she rasped, "You all put him down here…you put that knife in his chest…"

Jack's eyes were wide in horror as he stared at the nature spirit, before they averted back down to the knife in his hand. It seemed to fit perfectly in his palm, as if it were _made_ for him to hold. Made for him to wield. Made for him to _use_.

"You all crucified and _murdered_ him!"

After this, Jack's memories blanked out completely.

**x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x**

The other Guardians did not know what to expect when – and if – Nature and their two colleagues reemerged from the hole. But if they did expect anything, it wasn't to see Mother Nature carrying the all too familiar, yet skeletal, body of what was left of the Boogeyman in her arms.

Tooth's hands flew to her mouth and her wings gave out. She was barely caught by a wide eyed and gaping Bunny, and North's once defensive posture dropped into one of utter astonishment and disbelief.

The Boogeyman was wasted away to nearly nothing now. He looked so small, so fragile and vulnerable in the woman's arms – he was the complete opposite of what he one was. He was so weak and wasted, it was no wonder how a petite woman like Nature was able to carry him like a distressed damsel.

Nature knelt to the ground and gingerly placed Pitch onto the earth. Hesitantly, Nature worked up the courage to try and remove the gag. The blood soaked cloth was removed and tossed aside like rubbish, her delicate fingers gently tracing over the cuts inflicted to the corners of Pitch's still mouth. The faintest of warm breath ghosted over her fingertips from the Boogeyman's aquiline nose – he was still alive.

Nature did not even stop North from kneeling down beside Pitch and tearing off a piece of his coat. He pressed the thick fabric to the gaping wound in Pitch's chest, before tearing thinner strips off to wrap around brittle palms. His own beefy hands were shaking, and his face was pale with wide-eyed shock. As his hands began to shake and fumble with the wound in Pitch's chest, Nature snatched away the cloth and slapped his hands away from the frail man.

"Back off…!" She hissed. North wisely held his hands up and slowly shuffled back towards Tooth and Bunny. The Tooth fairy spoke up meekly after a small pause.

"Mo…Mother Nature, is he-?"

"Quiet…" Nature rasped in a seething hiss. Toothiana bit her lip and wrung her hands, unable to take her eyes off of the pathetic form of the Nightmare King and what he had become.

Nature's hands moved from the wound in his chest, to the blindfold confining his eyes. She hesitated, then pulled her hands away. Something was telling her to leave it, to keep his eyes covered and to let him be for now. It infuriated her to no end, but she was not about to deny her natural instincts, all of which had yet to steer her wrong. Instead, she gathered Pitch in her arms again. And ignoring the blood staining her skirt and bodice, locked onto North.

"Take out a globe." She ordered.

North's bloodied hands reached into his inner pocket, and shakily brought out an unused Snowglobe. The glass stained and streaked itself with the blood caked to his fingers.

"Where…where to?" he inquired shakily.

Nature paused for a moment to pick the Boogeyman back up in her arms. She harshly dismissed Bunny's offer to carry him like an overly protective mother bear, before she spoke.

"To Libra's Court."*

**x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x**

The moment they stepped through the portal and into the white marble stoned palace, they were immediately greeted by an all too eerily familiar time spirit.

"Ah, you made it," he greeted in a friendly manner, "I was starting to think you wouldn't show up."

"I am not in the mood, Time," Nature hissed, her agitation increasing at the sight of the serene man, "Where is Libra? A Trial must be held to-"

"Already taken care of," Time interrupted, "I took the liberty of having everyone needed gathered. All that is missing is the defendants."

Nature's teeth audibly grit together, though whether from anger or anxiety was unknown. But her gaze at the calm man spoke volumes; it displayed nothing but murderous intent. She opened her mouth to say something, but it swiftly closed as they were approached by a pair of Libra's guards.

A man and a woman dressed in aquamarine tunics and armor approached the group in a steady march. Jack was stunned into a stupor to see that the two had not the heads of humans, but eagles – complete with feathers and beaks, and spiked helmets on their heads.* The two strange guards bowed deeply to Nature before the female spoke in a strange, guttural voice.

"Judge Libra shall see you now," she said, her beak barely moving, "You have a half hour to prepare yourselves for the court."

"We shall take care of the defendants," The male added, "And see to sir Black's injuries."

"Defendants…?" Jack muttered, confused, "What's going on? We should be at the pole to help Pitch and-"

Time chuckled, "Really, master Frost? You think it's that easy? No, no, child, you cannot leave, nor will you take master Black with you."

North's hands tightened into shaky fists, "We are to be prosecuted…" it was not a question.

"Indeed," Time confirmed, "By Judge Libra herself, and before the High Fae Court, and the higher spirits of the mortal world."

"What…?" Jack rasped. His brain was unable to catch up to all of this new information, and it visibly showed. Time sighed and shook his head.

"Honestly, I knew you Guardians were rather untoward, but to not give your newest member the rundown of our own society? Shame." Time shook his head again and looked to the eagle-man.

"His injuries are not dire, but they do need tending," he said, "Please inform Libra that I am going to be somewhat late. I must impose on her library briefly." And with that, he gave one last calm smile and a nod to Nature before he wandered off, the click of his heels vanishing down the long, marble hallway.

Mother Nature watched him vanish down the hallway with an unreadable expression, her obsidian eyes practically spitting fire at his back. Sighing shakily through her nose, she looked to the female guard.

"Please, as he says, Pitch needs help." She said softly. The guard nodded.

"Yes, m'lady." The eagle-woman held her muscular arms out, and Nature carefully, hesitantly, placed the frail Boogeyman in her arms.

The guard gave one last nod before a pair of feathered wings sprouted from her back, and she flew off down the corridor and into an upper level just at the end of the hall. Nature's arms fell to her sides into tight, blood covered fists as she watched the Boogeyman be swept off to the infirmary. But her thoughts seemed to be elsewhere, and her eyes narrowed.

"Take these heathens to where they are needed," she said, "I must speak with Time."

Without another word, she stormed off at a speedy walk towards where her colleague had wandered, leaving the Guardians with a single guard. The eagle-man made a low, bird-like crooning sound and huffed through his beak and nose.

"As the defendants, I have the privilege of reading you your rights," he started formerly, "Under Judge Libra's orders, you are hereby held under contempt. You are not to leave The Court; should you leave The Court, Judge Libra shall add your defiance onto your accusations. Your trial starts in a half hour, until then you will be kept in our holding cells and questioned on the matter of…"*

The rest of the eagle-man's words were tuned out from Jack's steadily deafening ears. All of what had transpired in the last twenty-four hours seemed to come crashing into him under the intense, iron gaze of the guard. This was no dream, this was real. He was not just going to court, he and the Guardians were going to _The Court._

Blackness enveloped his vision, and he knew nothing of the world anymore.

**x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x**

The doors to the vast library were thrown open with a rage filled flourish, admitting one very angered nature spirit. Time barely gave her so much as a glance from the book perched on his lap, his sightless gaze neutral.

"You…!" Nature stormed forward and towards the calmly reclining time spirit, ripping the book he had been reading from his hands, "You _knew!_"

"Pray tell, what did I know?" Time asked innocently.*

Nature's hand clamped down onto the other's throat, thorns and toxic plant spikes growing from her fingertips and piercing his skin. The poison was useless against someone like Time, and simply knowing that the other was in some kind of miniscule pain did not sooth the woman as much as she had thought it would.

"You _knew_ this was going to happen…" she hissed, "You _knew_ he was down there, you _knew_ he was going to be found like this, _you knew_ those monsters would damn him to his own hell!"

Her shrieking was punctuated by the thorns and vines creeping out from under her dress, as well as the toxic insects scurrying down her arms and onto Time's lithe body. But no sting or prick was ever administrated to his unusually calm person. He simply gazed up at her with closed eyes and a neutral expression.

A tiny grin suddenly contorted his lips, one leg crossing over the other as he folded his hands neatly on his lap.

"And how would I know?" he inquired, "I may be able to see all that ever was, is, and shall be, but I do not see _all_."*

"You _see_ that which is _important_ and will affect all life itself on _my_-"

"_Our_ Earth, dear," Time chastised gently, "And it is not our jobs to deal in personal quarrels."

"But it is _our_ job, _your_ job to warn I and other higher spirits of catastrophe!" Nature yelled, tightening her pulsing hand around his neck, "Our planet is being ravaged by war and famine, disease and unnatural warfare!"

"Indeed it is, isn't it?" Time commented, before he suddenly smirked in a none too friendly way, "But that isn't why you are angry. It is not why you are here, now is it?"

Nature's head veered back, as if she had just avoided a punch to the face. Her eyes were wide briefly before they contorted back into an ugly and hateful scowl.

"I am here because the Guardians have caused my planet to-"

"You are here because of Pitch Black…" Time suddenly stood, and with little to no effort, firmly pulled Nature's hand off his throat. He grinned down his nose at her and nonchalantly swatted a few bugs off his tunic.

"You are here because you are angry," he started, "And you are angry not because of what is happening to the planet – you created Earth to be a resilient thing, and you are more than capable of wiping out the 'pests' on her surface…"*

Nature wanted to stop herself from being backed into a literal corner. The taller male's heels clicked steadily with each step he took, her own throat closing up on words she wanted to scream at the man. But all of them were steadily and swiftly being knocked from her head with each retaliation he made for the unspoken defenses.

"Yes, you are weakened, but you are _not_ powerless," he said, "Humans are so amusingly egotistical, thinking that _they_ are the only ones who can 'heal' the Earth, the only ones who can keep it healthy and safe, despite what they do to it…"*

Nature's back hit a marble column between two bookcases, the rest of her following until even her heels were plastered to its base. Time loomed over her, his hands politely held behind his back. And yet, this was a posture everyone should be afraid of. Time was not a naturally aggressive or physical man; but he was _dangerous_. And one should be most afraid of him when he was physically, yet un-physically, forcing someone into a corner. Literal or otherwise, Time was a very, _very_ dangerous man right now – even to Nature herself.

"You forget yourself, Mother Nature…" he said. Nature could taste his cold, metallic breath on her tongue, could smell his mechanical and oily scent in her nose. He was so close, she could actually count the long dark lashes of his closed eyes, could make out each unsullied pore in his face, could actually see the metal shavings caught in his platinum hair.

"We are not _heroes_," he started firmly yet gently, as if he were scolding a child, "We are that which keeps life as we know from ending. We are _not_ gods though. We are silent, unseen, _unobtrusive_…"

"And yet, you personally went out of your way to 'rescue' Pitch Black." He said with a cocked head.

Nature's hands balled into tight fists, but she was unable to strike out at the other. Because deep down, she knew he was right, she knew it was true, and she _knew_ she was defying her very nature due to her own anger.

Time chuckled to himself, "This is not a matter of the Earth being ravaged by idiotic humans, no, this is _personal_ to you, isn't it?"

She wanted to tune him out. Wanted to tightly shut his mouth and render him mute – but she couldn't. Nature tried to focus instead on the ticking clock buried in his breast, to try and mentally amplify that steady_ 'tick-tock'_ resonating from his cold, metal heart. Anything else would be better than listen to him. Anything would be better than being dissected alive by his unseen eyes. Anything would have been better than having him forcibly rip out her once steel-plated emotions and showing them to her.

"Remember my dear…" he leaned in closer until their noses were nearly touching, "Time tells no lies. Time only shows that which has, is, or will happen, with no sense of bias or emotion. Nature is just as such, a cruel yet nurturing thing. And I have been seeing you spinelessly bending to your own emotions' will."

"You, the very embodiment of _nature_, the wildest, most untamable force of existence. And yet here you are, reverted to a raging child."

A low chuckle, Time lifting a hand to her chin to make her look up at him.

"How amusingly _human_ of you…"

Nature flinched violently when the hand on her chin suddenly shot out alongside her head. Dust and tiny chunks of marble crumbled from the large crack under Time's palm, planted over the marble of the column she was pinned to. He slowly pulled his hand back in a fist, before opening it to reveal one of her insects – a butterfly.

"That you would revert back to a lost and hurt little girl, because _daddy_ is hurt…" he said, "And the best part is, _you_ knew that he _has_ been hurting for many, many years. And you chose _now_ to act, because it was convenient and would preserve your pride."*

It was like a taut string inside of her had finally snapped. A heavy weight dropped into her gut, and suddenly everything was just _painful._ It was too much, there was too much of this _thing_ inside her body, and it needed to be let _out._

Nature trembled as a once forgotten heat burst behind her eyes. Her brain was not but a blank and useless mass in her head now. Whether she was aware of her actions or not, she let her heavy head drop onto Time's shoulder. Her hands reached up and clutched violently at the front of his tunic, her nails ripping into the soft material as her nose was assaulted by the scent of metal and a damp muskiness. Time made no move to stop or encourage her; rather he stood by calmly as her trembling body pressed into his, the crown of her dark hair brushing against his chin.

It was as if Time himself was physically sucking her very age away. And as he over turned his palm, and let the broken and crushed butterfly fall to the floor like a piece of lint, she felt like a little girl again.

And she wept.

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

_A/N~ Okay, so I lied! I'm doing not a double update, but a TRIPLE UPDATE! HOLY F***ING CRAP! *runs around in circles*_

_- Hm, I must have some kind of fetish for irony and hidden meanings. Though I honestly DO see Pitch as a butterfly, in terms of his representation and similarities to the animal. *shrug*_

_- Again, irony much? You'd need to read the books, and on Nightlight, to get the irony of this mental state Jack is in._

_- Libra's Court is where Judge Libra Justine, my OC spirit of justice and order, lives. It's based on New York Court of Appeals, one of the highest court systems in the US, and is located in Albany, New York._

_- As a tribute to the NYCA, I featured Libra's 'minions' as strongly build men and women with the heads of eagles - the animal in question being featured on the NYCA's seal. The Eagle people also have wings, but only the women can fly, while the men possess inhuman strength. _

_- Let the record show, that the judicial system in this fic - or rather their spirit realm - is different than the human world's. But I tried to keep it as similar as possible in terms of certain rights, formalities, and the like. God I watch too much Law and Order: SVU..._

_- My FT is a bit of an asshole. But he is an honest asshole. And we love him. I love certain assholes. House is a good example of an asshole I am quite fond of, even if he is a TV drama character. Hugh plays him pretty damn well!_

_- MY FT is, again, omnipotent, but not so much in a 'god' sense. He can only actively look at something when he wills it, and even then he will not look at it for long. However, he can see things unconsciously if the events have a significant impact on Earth of the Time Stream._

_- He says 'our' for a reason that will be revealed in a later chapter._

_- MN is, in fact, capable of destroying the humans and other 'pests' ravaging her planet. It would be difficult considering her weakened state, yes, but it's not impossible. Not to mention Time would be all too happy to help 'clean up' so to speak._

_- Hey, it makes me wonder about humanity sometimes. We worry so much about our Earth, but in reality, it's a PLANET. It can probably take a lot of hits. It would nothing short of a Texas-sized asteroid to obliterate the planet - we're simply destroying its surface. Not to say I approve of our methods, but still. We're likely going to be wiped out by our own hands before the earth implodes on us._

_- Make no mistake. Time may seem to be acting like a dick with Nature here, but let's bear something in mind. Some of us need gentle coaxing to let out our pain. Others need a more strategized method. Others need to just let it out on her own. Nature here, she needs Time's passive-aggressive methods to FORCE her anguish out. She's too prideful to simply go to someone and ask for a shoulder to cry on._

_**Now edited!**_

_Please enjoy!_

_~S~_


	6. Chapter 6

**Solitary Confinement.**

Ch. 6

_A/N~ *whistles a tune while in sunglasses* haters gonna hate~ Hahaha! Man I love messing with these characters, I am such a sadistic bitch! XDD ah, but anyways, hang onto your seats folks! Cause we're going to COURT! SWOOT!_

_Oh this is gonna be fun! Get ready for some HATIN'~ Oh and speaking of, __**BIG WARNING**__ for almost all OCs in this chapter, plus the Guardians. We're not going to be seeing much interaction with Pitch until probably the next chapter. But no worries, he's going to be getting LOTS of Whumpy limelight later on. This part plays an important part in this whole thing after all, so it needs to be done. So enjoy an exclusive case in Libra's Court!_

_And surprise for Plush! Hal's gonna flip his lid! Ye-uh! It's shit flippin' time! *dances* _

_Enjoy!_

~S~

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

"…ack…-ack…JACK!"

Jack jumped from his horizontal position on a bench. Muttering in surprise, and not a bit too much irritation from being woken up, Jack rubbed his eyes and looked at the source of his unplanned wake up call.

"Tooth, what is it…?" he asked blearily.

"Jack, it's almost time for our trial…" Tooth informed bleakly.

'_Trial…?'_ Jack finally blinked the sleep out of his eyes and seemed to finally take notice of just where they all were.

The four walls around them were made of some kind of off-white marble, decked with matching slabs of stone used as benches and narrow chairs. A small barred window was carved into the back wall, and across from it was an intricate array of bars and a heavy lock. Jack saw the others on either a slab of marble, or standing around – they were in a prison. While it didn't look like a typical concrete and iron prison humans used, it was obviously meant to hold prisoners within its thick walls and steel.

"Where…?" Jack got up, automatically reaching for his staff – his hand gripped thin air, and he looked down in stunned fright.

"They took our weapons, mate," Bunny grunted from his standing point in a corner, "Regulations, rules, and all that shit…"

Trying to ignore the distressing feeling of not having his staff, Jack shuffled over to the window. He grabbed onto the stone ledge and peaked out over it as far as he could with the bars in the way. All he could see was a sea of clouds, and in the distance only a scant few peaks in the distance. Were they on a mountain range? Was this…was this all real…?

"It…" he started, "It wasn't a dream…was it?"

"I am afraid not, Jack," North said grimly, "We are going to trial in a few minutes, before Judge Libra herself."

"The Spirit of Justice and Order?" Jack asked. He had heard stories of Libra, from spirits who had attended her court as a peer council and jury. She was harsh, firm, almost cruel – but she was fair and orderly. It was rare a spirit went to court, but when they did, they were dealt punishment for whatever crime it was they committed, however small it may be.

But this, what they all did, and the reactions of the other spirits – this was something _huge_. What they did to Pitch Black was not something that was going to be resolved with a few nights in a cell. And if he remembered right, Time was there to greet them, and he himself had coordinated the trial – which meant he was going to be a part of it.

"Wh-when is the trial? What's going to happen? Do we get a lawyer or something?" Jack asked frantically.

"Jack, calm down," Tooth soothed, grabbing his shoulders and gently forcing him onto a bench, "That isn't how our system works."

"Then how do we…?"

"Our system is much simpler, more organized, than a human law and order system," North started to explain, "Depending on the case, a defendant would be given a defender, the human equivalent of a lawyer. This is the most common trial system used in our world, where defendant and victim argue and face off with evidence and their own sides of event – much like human trial."

North sighed heavily, "But really, final judgment is up to Libra herself. Her abilities within her court make it so she can see through lies, and force the truth out of others.* Corruption is not welcome in her court, and she herself is immune to such things."

"Basically, if a defendant looks guilty, sounds guilty, and evidence says he's guilty, he's guilty," Bunny grunted, "There are no loopholes – it's all up to Libra. Rights are withheld til everythin' is laid out on the table, so to speak."

"Some of her trials are said to last for days," Tooth added, "And depending on the crime determines what kind of trial we will have. For something like this…it's going to be intense."

Jack swallowed dryly around a lump in his throat. The system seemed short and incomplete, but it also seemed swift and orderly. It was far simpler and more flexible than an easily corrupt or loop-hole infested human system. But this left him having to ask…

"What kind of trial are we being held in?" Jack asked shakily.

North shook his head, "I do not know. I highly doubt it will be quick. Pitch is unable to testify after all."

"Worse yet, Nature and Time are gonna be there and participate…" Bunny added darkly, "Nature's been in court a few times to bring some idiot spirits trying to take over her planet to justice, but Time has never, ever, set foot in The Court."*

So this would be the first time in history that Father Time himself would be participating in a trial…

"I can hear 'em upstairs," Bunny suddenly said, "They're sayin' Time's gonna be playin' a big part in the trial, and present evidence."

"How will he present evidence? He wasn't there…" Jack said.

"He didn't have to be there…" Bunny grunted, "He's the Spirit of Time. He sees all that was, is, or will be. He can just show the court what Pitch went through when he was sealed, and he doesn't even _have_ to do that. After all, Time tells _no_ lies…"*

Jack's heart was jumping into his throat, but he had no time to panic. The low click of armored shoes filled the stony hallway of cells, catching their attention and turning it to the door of their cell. Two male guards – both bearing the heads of eagles – stopped before the cell. One was carrying a wooden box, and the other a ring of keys.

"It is time for your trial, Guardians," the key holder said, "We are to escort you to The Court, and you are to be cuffed during the trial."

"What? But why? What could we do that would-"

"Safety precautions. The jury and onlookers do not feel safe with you all, and Judge Libra ordered you be restrained." The box holding guard said evenly.

"What? Why would our companions not feel safe around-"

"Please step up one at a time to receive your cuffs," the second guard selected a key and unlocked the door, the other opening the box which no doubt contained their supposed restraints.

"If you fail to comply, we have been given permission to use force." The second added, "Please, step forward."

"Listen here ya bloody chickens, we don't have to-" Bunny grunted as the second guard suddenly pulled out a marble nightstick* and struck the Pooka straight in the gut. Bunny curled over himself as he was stunned into a pained stupor.

"Bunny…!" Tooth looked like she was about to retaliate, but a hand on her shoulder from Sandy stopped her.

The guard put his nightstick back into his belt, and folded his hands behind his back. All professional business.

"Please, step forward. This is your final warning." He said.

Everyone gave each other uncertain looks, but it was obvious they would have to comply. North went first and held his wrists out to the guard. The eagle-headed man clamped down strange, chainless green cuffs around his wrists, before guiding North to stand in front of the second guard. Next came Tooth, then Sandy, then Jack, and then Bunny, who took a moment to regain himself and sneer at the guards as he was cuffed.

After checking the cuffs were secure, the guards led the Guardians down the aisle of cells and out into another hallway.

The cuffs seemed to be either magnetized or held some sort of strange magic. The Guardians could not move away from one another for a certain distance. And if they wandered too far from one another, the cuffs would not let them go any further, as if held back by an invisible chain – as proven when Tooth started to hover a little too high and she pitched forward from the restraining force. She had to resort to walking after that so as not to break her flight patterns and hurt herself.

A couple turns later, and the Guardians reached a pair of towering doors; no doubt leading into the courtroom they were to be tried in. The guards each reached for one of the great, eagle-headed knockers, and pulled the doors open.

The Guardians' eyes widened.

The room was _massive_. It was a round, towering room of round bleachers lining the oval shaped room. The room was absolutely _filled_ with other spirits – fae, wights, wraiths, and other such souls were seated within the stands, all of them having gone silent to stare down harshly and accusingly at the Guardians. The very back of it was dominated by what had to be a seven foot and intricately carved column of white and aquamarine marble, the top of it hosting Judge Libra herself. But on either side of Libra's desk, were slightly shorter columns hosting Mother Nature and Father Time. In front of their seats were smaller, shorter rows of bleachers that held higher spirits, a few of which Jack recognized.

Hal was seated closest to Nature's own seat, his gaze impassive and looking at some point of the wall above them. Next to him were the seasonal fairy siblings – the sisters, Spring and Summer, and the brothers Fall, and Winter.* The spirit at the end of the bleacher was not one Jack recognized – the androgynous spirit had many weeds tangled in (his? Her?) long wavy hair, the body dripping wet and soaking into a seaweed woven tunic-dress. Next was a spirit Jack also did not recognize. She appeared to be a rather beautiful looking Asian woman dressed in a bright red kimono, her long black hair tied up in a bun and held together with red chopsticks. A veil of spider-web themed silk dangled in pleated strips in her hair, and Jack could vaguely see a few spiders crawling along her body. And next to her was a rather grotesque looking spirit – a Skin-walker if he ever did see one. Jack couldn't decipher the gender of the spirit, as the head was mostly covered by a deer skull, and the body clad in raggedly sewn animal skins and moss.

Jack didn't have the time to observe anymore of the assembled spirits, as the guards ushered them to a large round stand no doubt for them to make their case on. It was right in front of Libra and the higher spirits' seats and scrutinizing gazes.

Once they were seated, Libra raised a hand to silence the quiet murmuring of the gathered onlookers and court participants. The Guards left the Guardians' sides and approached Libra's stand.

"Judge Libra Justine, the defendants are ready for their trial." They both droned out, before taking position in front of the stand holding the higher up spirits. Libra stood up from her seat and regarded the Guardians.

"Guardians Nicolas St. North, E. Aster Bunnymund, Toothiana, Sanderson Mansnoozie, and Jack Frost, you have all been brought here on numerous accusations brought on by numerous individuals here in this very court. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty!" Bunny barked out before anyone else could say anything.

Almost immediately, outrageous cries broke out among the onlookers. Many stood up and yelled, while others were bold enough to throw things and shout out threats and suggestions on punishment.

"Strip them of their power!"

"Lock them up like animals!"

"Throw them to the Nightmares!"

"End them!"

"Torture them!"

"Exile them!"

More shouts and outbursts were breaking out. Libra glowered under her aquamarine blindfold and stood up straighter, raising a hand.*

"**ORDER!**"

And just like before, all sound was stolen from every voice in the room, throats closing up around hissing breath and angered protests. Everyone who had stood up – sans Libra herself – slowly sat back down with stunned and shaken expressions. Once all was silent, Libra regarded the Guardians once more.

"Is this your final plea?" she asked curtly.

"Ye-"

"No!" North thankfully broke in before Bunny could get them into even deeper water, "Judge Libra, we understand our actions have caused grief, and we take responsibility for our actions. But perhaps we are going a bit far in this prosecution and can settle this outside of The Court."

More spirits made to protest – loudly – before Libra raised a hand again, and managed to silence them without speaking in her commanding voice.

"If I may, Judge Libra?" Mother Nature inquired. Libra nodded curtly to the nature herald, and the woman stood up from her seat, hands planted firmly on her own desk.

"You all obviously have _no idea_ just how drastic this is," she said impassively, "Or perhaps you are in denial. Do you all not know just how far things have gone since fear has been denied to the humans of this world?"

"Th-that's what we're trying to understand!" Tooth answered, "We have not seen anything wrong happening in the world."

"Really Toothiana? Why do you think that is?" Time inquired, "Is it maybe because, while you have gone out in the field again for a while, you stopped only twenty three years ago?"

The fairy woman recoiled as if stung, but said no more after that. Nature turned her attention back to the other Guardians.

"And what of the rest of you? Two of you only venture out of your homes once a year, one only at night and when people are asleep, and one avoids any place with even a hint of heartache at all costs." She said.

Jack internally cringed at the accusation, but he knew it was true. He didn't like it about himself though, he wasn't proud that he couldn't stand personally going to places where he's seen pain or anguish. He sends snow-clouds to those places to help with his job, but even now he's been visiting fewer and fewer places as unfortunate events increased. It had gotten to the point where he has confined himself to the North Pole most of the year…

"Please, Judge, we had nothing but the best intentions in mind when we sealed Pitch away!" Tooth argued.

"Yes, Moon thought it was best idea, and he asked of us to-"

"The moon again?" Cupid, up in a higher stand, sneered, "Are you all really this easy to order around? Have you no spines? No HEARTS?"

"Oi, we got plenty of spine!" Bunny snapped, "Manny knew what he was doing, and you all better show some respect for 'im!"

"And why should we?" one of the Greek twins, Dora, inquired in a bored tone, "Your moon did not create us, nor has he ever spoken with us."

"Yeah, we're not his babysitters like you all are." Her brother, Pan added.* The childish spirits giggled at Bunny's snarling at them.

"Yer moon did not earn our respect," Patrick broke in from the other side of the bleachers, "Not all of us were created by 'im, it's only you five who were put under 'is thumb."

"What?" Jack breathed, confused, "What do you mean we're the only ones? I thought the Man in the Moon made all of us."

Shocked and disgusted murmurs broke out among the court. Some spirits scoffed at his naivety, while others looked at him with pity. Hal spoke up from his seat near Nature.

"Jack, none of us, except you and the Guardians, were made immortal by the moon. All of us here were either given our immortality by Nature and Time, or by a spirit before us," he said carefully, "He has never spoken to us, because we do not want to listen to him. He doesn't even like us darker spirits."

"But…but then how…?"

"You truly are naive," Mother Natured sighed, shaking her head, "I actually pity you for what the moon did – choosing a child of isolation as a Guardian, and then leaving you this clueless over the years."

"Manny is good man!" North argued, pounding a fist onto the stand, "He is wise and caring of us and the children of this world!"

"But he does not take into consideration of who and what really makes this world go round," Time commented, leaning his hand onto a fist. He suddenly grinned, "The Tsar is a childish fool, and you all blindly follow him. I cannot say I am surprised. I am, however, just slightly disgusted that you all took this approach, despite knowing of Black's past."*

"His past…?" Jack mutters under his breath. Time quirks a brow at Jack, but does not say anything.

"But this isn't the point!" Bunny broke in, "The point is he nearly wiped us out! Yeah, we probably wouldn't have died, but it's not like we knew-"

"Careful, Bunnymund," Libra suddenly broke in, "You are in my court now, and I will know if you are lying."

Bunny grit his teeth together and clenched his fists, but made no further argument. Libra looked to Time.

"Sir Time, if I may have your input? Your foresight in the matter can help this trial along and make it as brief as possible." She said.

"Hm, brief indeed," Time sighed, almost looking bored, "I cannot say much due to my own code of conduct*, but I will say this. Pitch Black was completely ravaged by his Nightmares. Whatever is left inside of him is not but ash and scraps. His torture went beyond mere beatings and nightmares…"

Nature's fingers clawed into the granite of her seat, but she made no sound or change in expression. The Sandman caught everyone's attention and showed a few images and hand gestures. North nodded.

"Yes, we did not know Pitch's powers and influence was so ingrained into the world," he translated, "Had we had known…"

"What would you have done?" the kimono clad woman inquired, "My threads tell me his fate would have been the same. You all would have still locked him away because of your own fears."

"Please, we had to protect the children…!" Tooth fidgeted.

Nature scowled at the fairy woman while other spirits shook their heads at the Guardian's denial and obliviousness.

"This is _not_ just about mere children anymore, Guardians," Nature hissed, "This is about _everyone_, including the spirits of this world."

The Guardians held no argument now – except Bunny, who they were restraining into _not_ talking. Once the silence reached a peak, Libra looked to Nature and Time.

"We shall disregard a personal plead, and move onto the evidence and damages." she said. Nature nodded over to the spirits in the bleachers below her and Time. They all briefly whispered amongst each other before they decided for the spider woman to go first. She stood from her seat and faced the court.

"As many of you may know, I am Maaka Asaito, the Spirit of Fate and Destiny…"*

The woman, revealed to be a Jorōgumo* of Japanese lore, was a spirit who wove and threaded the destinies of humans. Her red spider threads had once dictated a striving, though prosperous, few years before the calamity had started. But recently, her threads started to snap and break, fates and destinies collapsing whether due to defiance of their fate, or death. Her spiders were also starting to eat the threads, causing them to later die. Each human had a spider, and that spider shared a thread with another – the bond of The Red Thread of Destiny, and one of Cupid's own assets. But even these were starting to snap, leaving a hole in the fabrics of human hearts.

Destinies were being destroyed, and the webs of fate were collapsing due to either death, or their fates taking an ill turn in armies, loss, or other unfortunate events.

Next came the seasonal fairies. They spoke of how their seasons were being tainted, how cold areas were becoming hot, and hot areas were becoming cold. Spring could no longer paint her flowers, or fully wake the hibernating animals. Summer's domains were withering and becoming chilled, sometimes giving way to a too early autumn, and her rains were becoming acidic. Fall could hardly keep up with the sudden shifts, his winds suddenly polluted and weak, and his leaves were too few to change color. Winter complained of picking up Jack's slack and being unable to fully wield his own element. Storms were now running wild, and blizzards were taking over what were supposed to be light snowfalls. Lives were being lost in his uncontrollable cold, and animals were not going into hibernation soon enough.

The water fae was next. Her name was Ondine*, an ambassador for the sea and fresh water fae that could not leave their realms, or were too weak to leave the water. Lakes and rivers were not the only things being polluted and drained – the ocean itself was becoming a warzone. Oil spills were practically every day occurrences now, and water-fights were breaking out among warring vessels. Fish and other sea life were being plundered like useless treasure, nations fighting over who had the most food, and who would get the most from the sea. Greedy other faculties were even poaching, and the once forgotten act of whaling had suddenly started back up. Humpback whales and Orcas were suddenly on the 'highly endangered' list. Humans were also being lost at sea – especially fearless children looking for adventure, much to the Guardians' shock.

Second to last was the Skin-walker. He called himself Roadkill, and he was the Northern Spirit of Animals. His brothers and sisters – all scattered to the east, west, and south – were also experiencing dilemmas with the animals they protected. Humans were overhunting – many species were now already extinct! Predators such as wolves were being ravaged and terminated like vermin, while more exotic animals were being poached for nothing but their skins or horns. His African sister had reported to him that the big cat population was practically nonexistent, and lower, high-breeding animal populations were exploding; spreading sickness and destroying plant life. Everything in the animal kingdom was falling apart at the seams.

And if this wasn't bad enough, other animals were being captured and experimented on to improve biological warfare. Animals – both big and small – were suffering and mutating, many of them being bred in faculties for their mutated genes for human benefit. Humans were in danger of the animals too – they at least retained natural, instinctual fear, and have sensed the shift in power. Animals were attacking fearless humans – especially children – who got too close to them. Diseases like Rabies and other animal-spread sickness were becoming all too common now, leading to war scientists to use them for biological weapons, in turn only increasing the death toll.

Finally, Hal took the stand. The Guardians were suddenly on edge, frightened, _terrified_ of what the Pumpkin King had to say.

However, when he was called to give his testimony, he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Judge, but I would like to withdraw my testimony." He said. Nature frowned at him.

"Hal, this is important," She implored, "These five must know just how much damage is being done _right now_, and especially with the Remnants."*

"The hell does his talkin' to ghosts have to do with any of this crap?" Bunny suddenly snarled.

"Bunnymund!" North hissed.

"No! No, this whole thing? This is absolute **bullshit!**" Bunny barked as he stood up from his seat.

"Bunnymund, you are out of order." Libra snapped.

"I don't care! This whole thing could be a ploy from Pitch! When has a lack of fear ever done anything like this? Warfare? Experimentation? Murder? Bloody world war!? He's causing this!"

"Bunnymund, either sit down and calm yourself, or I am holding you in contempt and having you thrown back in your cell!" Libra threatened.

"Bunny, just stop and listen to her…!" Tooth hissed, trying to tug her colleague back down. He shrugged her off and glared up at Nature.

"He's playin' ya, sheila. He's probably in the infirmary right now playin' it up!" he snapped to the court, "Are we honestly going to take the side of that bloke? Defend the one real monster in this world? He's the Nightmare King! He's nothing _but_ a monster!"

"He was not just a Nightmare King!"

All eyes turned to the once tired and silent wraith. Hal stood in his stand, oversized, clawed gloves gripping the marble edge tightly in his burning grasp. He stared down at Bunnymund with his pained, candy-corn eyes.

"He was _OUR_ king…" he rasped brokenly, "If it wasn't for him, we, the dark spirits, we would have never been born. From his fear, his darkness, we were born from it. Without him, we wouldn't exist!"*

The wraith gestured to the scrutinizing darker souls gathered in one corner of the room, their dark eyes staring down Bunny. Hal panted out a cloud of smoke as he snarled at Bunny.

"We may be cruel sometimes, Bunnymund, but we are fair, and we are the teachers humans need to survive!" Hal snapped, "Without fear, there _will_ be chaos. You're just too blinded by arrogance and your ego to see or accept it!"

"Yeah? You're one to talk! It's no wonder you'd take that sod's side," Bunny sneered nastily at the wraith, "You're nothing but his and Samhain's whore, after all."*

The gasp of the stunned crowd was all but white noise to Hal at that point. Smoke literally rose from his body in thick plumes, and his twin harvesting sickles were in his hands before he could even think. Stepping up onto the ledge of the bleacher, Hal's now brimstone and black eyes leered down at Bunny.*

"If I am a whore, then you are the damned Moon's SLUT!" his body lit aflame as he leaped for the Pooka, an instant commotion breaking out.*

"Order in the Court!" Libra shrieked.

"Oi Hal! Get offa 'im!" Patrick jumped his own seat and rushed for the now blazing wraith.

Bunny jumped back in time to watch Hal bury his sickles into the marble floor of where he once stood, his fiery feet singeing the floor. Bunny panted as he watched the scrawny wraith yank the metal blades out of the stone floor with almost no effort, locking his blackened eyes onto the Pooka.

"Hypocrite animal…!" he rasped.

"Yer outta yer bloody mind!" Bunny snapped.

Hal only growled like a rabid beast and charged at the Pooka. Bunny again managed to get out of the way of the burning blades, but found his arms unable to break out of the invisible restraints keeping him within five feet of the other Guardians. The wraith was deaf to Libra's pounding gavel, and her booming commands for order – when he flew into a rage, he could hear nothing until his intentions were fulfilled.

"Hal! Stop this lad! This ain't like ya!" Patrick tried to calm the wraith, but was unable to touch him while he was literally on fire.

"Back OFF!" Hal snapped at the Leprechaun. He turned back to Bunny and, finding him unable to leave the immediate area around the stand, started to approach the Pooka.

Patrick cursed loudly, just as Libra called her guards to surround the wraith. All of them were armed to the teeth, carrying weapons of spears, knives, maces, and axes; they were all fully prepared to tear the wraith apart. He threw all caution to the wind and rushed to Hal at full speed. And just as a guard was about to rope Hal with a chain, he tackled the wraith to the floor and pinned his flaming arms down.

"Damn it to high hell, Hal, CALM DOWN!" he shouted. Hal shrieked and hissed like a writhing cat. Patrick grit his teeth, trying to ignore the powerful flames burning into his suit and arms.

"Aurgh! Get the fuck _OFF!_" the rage-stricken wraith burned hotter and struggled harder. He managed to elbow Patrick in the mouth, and the Leprechaun lost his patience.

Growling in both frustration and pain, Patrick forcibly flipped the wraith onto his back. Pulling a fist back, he clocked Hal full across the face before grabbing the collar of his shirt to bring him nose to nose.*

"Get ahold of ye self ye brat! Yer gonna burn yerself out if ye keep this up!" he barked.

Hal only continued to shriek like a banshee, sputtering as plumes of smoke and ash erupted from his mouth. He was burning himself out like a roman candle. Eyes dilated from the burning pain, and seeing the guards closing in, Patrick shoved Hal's head down, flinching when his skull cracked against the floor.

"Is this how ye wanna repay him!? Do ye wanna die, is that it!?" he yelled, "Ye wanna die after all he did to save ye, ye selfish brat!?"*

The wraith seemed stunned, the only movement he could manage being his erratic panting as his unconscious willingness to keep his fire going wavered. He seemed to realize what he was doing, and who was pinned over him. With a gasp and a blink of burning eyes, Hal's fires burned out, and he was left staring wide-eyed at Patrick with his now calmed candy-corn irises.

Panting, the Leprechaun sighed and gave his trademark toothy grin when he saw Hal slowly returning to himself. The Halloween herald stared wide-eyed at Patrick and his burned torso and arms in disbelief. Once he got a full look over the Leprechaun's injuries, his eyes rolled back into his head and he became limp under the larger male. Patrick quickly checked him over in worry, but then gave out a mirthless chortle when he realized Hal had fainted.

"Yer gonna be the death 'o me, lad…" he rasped. He suddenly became more serious and turned his gaze up to Libra, "Judge, please, let 'im off. He's been in pain for months now…" a glare to the unscathed Pooka, "Sides, that overgrown rodent started this by callin' the lamb a whore."*

"Are you nuts!? He tried to kill me!" Bunny snapped.

"Bunnymund!" North snapped, grabbing the Pooka's arm roughly, "Now is not the time to be starting a fight!" he hissed.

Libra was about to make her own comments, but stopped when other spirits came to the now unconscious wraith's defense. Protests of mere flukes, raging tempers, pain, and weakening bodies – they were weak, though valid points in his actions. And Bunnymund's own words and actions merely added oil to the flame, so to speak. They were all tired and angry; Libra herself was significantly weakened from all of the disorder and chaos in the world. And although excuses never flew very well in her court, she had to silently yield.

Her lips tightening into a thin line, Libra pointed her gavel at Patrick.

"He will be let off for damaging my court and attacking Bunnymund, but he is under your watch under probation now," She said in finality, "I will have my guards take you and Hallow to the infirmary. Both your testimonies are now void."

Patrick nodded gratefully.

"Yes ma'am." He rasped. He shrugged off the guards trying to help him up and, ignoring his burns, scooped the unconscious wraith into his arms. A guard started leading him to the door, but he stopped before the wide-eyed Guardians and glared at them.

He didn't say anything, a rare feat for the otherwise boisterous man. His poison-green and gold eyes then averted down to Jack, causing the sprite to jump slightly under the intense gaze. Patrick shook his head in disappointment.

"It's a shame really," he said softly, "The lad held ye in such high hopes too. Can't say I'm not sorry he was wrong…"*

With that, Patrick let himself be escorted to the infirmary. The doors closed behind them, and the court was left silent. Dry swallowing, Jack looked back over to where the fight took place and felt himself cringe. Burns marred the once pristine white floors, cracks and fissures made prominent in a few places from Hal's blades plunging the floor. Burnt remains of Patrick's jacket and shirt were left scattered over a rather large burn shaped like Hal's body near their stand. A spider-webbed crack was visible in the marble where Hal's head had been slammed into by the Leprechaun.

It astonished Jack that a gentle and quiet wraith like Hal could react so…violently. And the words Bunny had said…

'_He…he called Hal a whore. Pitch's whore,'_ he looked over at Bunny and frowned, _'Why? Why would Bunny call him something like that? What else are these guys not telling me?'_

While Jack contemplated this, Time smiled down at the sprite, and Nature watched Time himself with a suspicious glare.

To be continued…

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

_A/N~ Okay, so I sort of lied again. This was just the SMALL lip-flipper. The real shit-tossing will take place later on! And next chapter we get to see how Pitch is doing! Yay! *gets shot*_

_Enjoy this triple, OC filled update! *is shot again*_

_- Oh of the iconic 'Lady Justice's abilities is the ability to tell truth from lies, and to force people into speaking honestly. This has been incorporated into Libra._

_- This is actually one of Time's rules; NEVER get involved in personal affairs unless directly linked or actually involved. In a sense, he's not PERSONALLY involved, but his oath dictates he be in charge of earth along with Nature. The Guardians having trapped Pitch, and thus endangering the planet, he is involved in this trial through various links._

_- OC headcanon for my FT. My Ft cannot tell lies. He can bend words and tell 'the truth' in the most at length way as possible, but he does not, and cannot, lie._

_- The nightstick in question is actually the baton cops use when apprehending a violent suspect. I tried looking up a more well-known name, or whichever name it was most often referred to, but I stuck with nightstick. *shrug*_

_- I changed the seasonal representatives up a bit. The warm seasons are of female fae, while the cold ones are of male fae. These spirits are fairies like Tooth, complete with wings and all. These fae are the highest influential heralds of their given seasons._

_- A Skin-walker is a Native American 'witch'. They are humans that don the skins of animals, and can transform into the animal their given skin was taken from. Many depict them as evil, or dark spirits, while others regard them as healers and good witches. Here my Skin-walker OC, Roadkill, is one of many in the US and other continents that watch over the animals of the world._

_- The blindfold is reminisce of the actual blindfold the iconic symbol Lady Justice wears so as to not blind herself with bias or lies._

_- My OC twins, Pan and Dora, are descendants of the late Pandora, and the current guardians to Pandora's box. They are mischievous, childish spirits that appear to be ten years of age, and reside in Greece. _

_- Book!Verse elements to be introduced soon~_

_- This code of his is rather straightforward. Never tlel anyone of the past, present, and especially the future, and ESPECIALLY of others' time-lines. He only ever makes exceptions on the rare occasion where revealing such things will not affect the Time Stream._

_- Maaka is a Japanese word for 'red', and Asaito is a Japanese word for 'thread'. Maaka is a minor OC of mine, and my OC spirit of fate and destiny. Please __do not use__ without my permission!_

_- A Jorōgumo is basically the equivalent of a siren in Japanese lore. They are usually depicted to be disguised as seductive women that lure men into traps to eat. In some modern tales, like one of the animated Hellboy movies, one is depicted to have the body of a spider below the waist, and the torso of a seductive woman. They are said to lure men in with the music of a Biwa, a Japanese string instrument._

_- Ondine (or Undine in some cases) is depicted as a water nymph, but I toned down some of her given myths since there are so many stories and depictions of her. her she is a kind of ambassador for other water fae._

_- We'll be getting a better explanation on what these 'Remnants' are later on. I kind of miscalculated that last time I said this, so nyah~_

_- Well think about it. Darkness and fear breed a LOT of negative, but very knowledgeable things. These things teach us and have helped in our own mental evolution through time. Things like disease, famine, fears, pain - it all stems from FEAR._

_- BANG! Here comes some hidden plot. F*** my life. Hahaha...oh and now might be a good time to tell you all, I REALLY don't like the movie version of Bunnymund. At all. I REALLY don't. So expect some stress relieving bashing~ cause this hater's gonna HATE~_

_- There are only three known ways to PISS HAL OFF. One, touching or damaging his hate. Two, threatening his wisps or friends. And three, bad-mouthing his former master and Pitch. Explanations on the latter will be given later down the line~_

_- One of Hal's abilities is to set himself on fire and take on the shape of a flamed scarecrow. His clothes are unaffected by this, and it is a nifty defense mechanism - but it IS limited, especially in his weaker state. He can literally burn himself out if he goes on too long._

_- Patrick is basically that big 'brother bear' figure to the smaller and shyer spirits to their realm. He's been especially close to Hal since he was created, and they share a kind of brother complex with one another. He is not violent towards smaller beings, but he WILL use force and violence if it means keeping the one he strikes safe - case in point, he hit Hal to snap him out of his rage so he won't burn out._

_- Yet more hidden plot~ *dances into a ditch*_

_- I find this term of endearment, 'lamb', adorable. Irish men use this as a term of endearment to daughters, women, or young children, while an elder sibling may use it for their younger sibling. But it is mostly used by men to girls or women. It can also be used as a low-grade insult to describe someone as 'girly' or 'weak'._

_- HIDDEN PLOT. OH GOD WHY._

_Please enjoy while I go and pass out on my be- *passes out at desk* Zzz…_

_**Now edited!**_

_~S~_


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